


The Secret Life of Natasha Romanoff

by HuginsQuill



Series: Foggy Stars and Illuminous Dreams [1]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Awesome Natasha Romanov, F/M, Fluff, Natasha Romanov Feels, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, Romance, slightly angsty once in a while
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 31,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29201244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuginsQuill/pseuds/HuginsQuill
Summary: A series of oneshots dealing with Natasha's life before Ironman 2, after Captain America: Civil War and anything in between or outside of the Marvel timeline. There will be fluff, friendship and angst, Romanogers, Brutasha, no pairing at all and hopefully everything else you can imagine.The series is finished and contains of 120 oneshots, which will be posted every few days. Has already been posted on another page but I thought you might like it, too.
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Series: Foggy Stars and Illuminous Dreams [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2156133
Comments: 12
Kudos: 37





	1. In Between Worlds

**Author's Note:**

> Characters: Natasha, Clint, Tony, Steve, Sarah and James

Natasha shot and rolled behind a rock while gun fire erupted around her. "Tony, what's up with the server? You found it? I kinda have a situation out here." She carefully crept around returning the fire.

"On it, Red," Tony answered curtly. "Destroying it isn't the problem but FRIDAY is working on downloading data. Might take some time."

"Just try to work as fast as possible," Clint's voice could be heard via comms, too. There was a small explosion in the background.

Natasha discarded the empty clip and reloaded. "Why exactly is this just a three guys op? I'd like to have the big guy here. Or Steve."

Clint sounded slightly stressed as he answered. "According to intel three would have been more than enough."

"When will we ever learn not to trust intel? Natasha sighed and took out two more goons. Although it wasn't the first time – and probably wouldn't be the last one – a mission turned out worse or more difficult than thought, it still made her nervous. For some years now there were more people she had to think about than just herself; people who depended on her coming home safely.

"Okay, FRIDAY got everything we need. I'm gonna blow this thing up and then we can go home," Tony announced. "Duck and cover, guys!"

The facility was still smoking when the quinjet was leaving en route to New York. Tony typed in the coordinates while his armour was still disassembling. Natasha and Clint changed into more comfortable clothes; neither cared a lot for privacy since they had patched each other together often enough.

"You got hit," Clint suddenly said; it wasn't a question. He gently turned Natasha around to get a better look at the wound on her upper arm. "Why didn't you say something?"

"Just a grazing shot," Natasha answered with a shrug and slipped in a pair of sweats. "No big deal."

"I know," Clint said with a small smile. "But you're bleeding and if I'm crashing at your place I'd rather patch you up beforehand so I don't get into trouble. So play nice and sit down."

Natasha rolled her eyes good-naturedly but did as he bid and sat down on one of the seats at the side. Tony, who had heard their conversation, brought the first-aid kit and winked. "Don't want Mini-Red and Mini-Cap to lynch me just because I brought you back injured.

"I think you're pretty safe after the new gaming console," Natasha said while Clint cleaned the wound. "Though Steve and I need to talk to you about that. You _need_ to talk to us if you want to buy them such expensive stuff."

"I didn't _buy_ it," Tony snorted disdainfully and crossed his arms. "Please. I _built_ it."

"That does _not_ make a difference, Tony!"

He rolled his eyes in answer. "Fine, next time I'll ask you for permission first. Alright?"

"Thank you." Natasha took a look at Clint's work and nodded appreciatingly. "Looks good."

"You're welcome," Clint answered, clasping her shoulder.

Tony followed Natasha in the cockpit after she slipped into a sweater and let himself fall into the co-pilot's seat. "Thanks for stepping in, by the way," he said in earnest. "I swear, I thought it was a small in and out kind of thing. I know you don't want to do the big stuff anymore, so… I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Natasha answered with a shrug and a smile. "It did end up well, so don't worry. And I needed to get out for a few hours."

"The munchkins being annoying?"

"Not more than you," Natasha quipped. "But Steve gets regularly with working at SHIELD while I stay at home most of the time. I love Sarah and James, don't get me wrong, but sometimes…"

"Sometimes you wanna be more than mommy spider?" Tony asked.

"Not exactly more, but… someone different. Someone I know."

~#~#~#~#~#~

"Mommy!" The shout of the children greeted Natasha once she stepped inside, Clint on her heels. She dropped the duffel where she stood, kneeled and hugged Sarah and James tightly. "We thought you'd be coming back yesterday."

"Yeah, it took a little longer," she admitted regretfully and kissed her children. But it was Steve she looked at when she added: "I'm sorry."

He nodded in answer and then went to greet them himself. "I'm glad you're back in one piece," he said, pulled Natasha tightly to himself before he let go of her and hugged Clint. "Thanks for bringing her home, Clint. Just fell at home, okay?"

"Always," answered the archer grinning.

James tugged at his sleeve. "Uncle Clint? Can we go and play outside?"

"Pretty please?" Sarah came to her brother's help.

Clint raised playfully one eyebrow. "Can I eat something first?"

"No!" the children replied together and pulled him with them.

Steve watched them with a shake of his head but couldn't suppress a smile. "You wanna help cooking dinner?"

"Sure thing." Natasha toed off her boots and followed him into the kitchen. "How did it go while-"

His kiss kept her from ending her question and although surprised Natasha returned it with the same fervor. "I was so worried," Steve finally mumbled, cradling her face in his hands. "When you didn't come home yesterday, all sorts of thoughts were running through my head. What if something happened to you? How could I explain Sarah and James? What if-"

Now it was Natasha's turn to interrupt him. "I'm here with only a scratch. I'm fine. _We're_ fine. Tony didn't know it would bloat up like this; the facility was better guarded than thought. Still, I'm sorry."

"I know," Steve sighed. "And I won't tell you to not go on missions anymore. You don't ask that of me, either. But it's hard to wait and not be able to do a single thing. "

"I talked with Tony about the gaming console," Natasha said if only to deter his thoughts. "He promised to not give them overly expensive gifts without our consent anymore. Maybe we need to remind him before next Christmas."

"I'm sure we have to." Steve finally let go of her and turned to place a chopping board and a knife on the counter. "You're chopping the vegetables and I'm taking care of the steaks?"

"Lead the way, soldier," Natasha answered with a smirk and took the knife in hand.

~#~#~#~#~#~

"And the prince returned with the princess to his castle where they got married and lived happily ever after." Natasha carefully closed the book and smiled. Both children were using her as their pillow as they had fallen asleep during the bedtime story. She loved doing this ever since. Although Sarah was old enough to read stories by herself now, she still fell asleep when Natasha read one to her. As usual they had cuddled together in the giant armchair Steve had bought ages ago on a flea market during her first pregnancy.

"They asleep?" Steve asked quietly from the door.

"Yeah. You're taking Sarah?"

Steve nodded and went to pick up his daughter. Still sitting, Natasha held James close as to not let him fall while standing up; it was only thanks to years of practice and her trained elegance that she didn't topple over. It amazed her time and time again, how James and Sarah could grow so big. As if it were the most natural thing to do, James arms snaked around her neck and he burrowed his face in the crook of her neck.

"I'm glad you back," he mumbled, sleep thick on his voice. "Missed you."

"I missed you, too, James," Natasha answered quietly and pressed a kiss to his temple.

"I was scared. I thought you never come back."

"I will always try to come back to you. Always. Pinky promise."

The boy held onto her when Natasha tried to lay him down. "Do you have to save the world?"

Natasha kept silent for a moment. She understood her son all too well but as much as she cared for her family, she had a second family that occasionally needed her help. And she was not yet ready to give up field work completely. "Uncle Clint and uncle Tony needed my help this time, but… See, it's difficult. I wish I wouldn't have to go but there are bad people who really want to do bad things. And I would like that when you and Sarah are grown-ups, you don't have to fight and save the world. That's why your dad and I have to go every now and then. Do you understand that?"

James nodded after a while and finally let go of her so she could tuck him in. "I'm still scared when you go."

"I know. And I'm sorry for that. But it's not every week. I used to do that a lot more before Sarah and you were born," Natasha recounted and kissed him gingerly on the forehead. "How about we find something fun to do tomorrow we all can do?"

"Mhm." Few moments later he was sound asleep again.

Natasha watched him for a short while longer, then she tiptoed out of the room. Steve was waiting for her outside and pulled her close for a kiss. "Clint's already snoring. I'd say we call it a night, too?"

"I'm in." Natasha smiled up to him. "It's good to be home."

"I'm glad you're back." Then he looked at her with his stern Captain America look, although there was mischief to be detected in his eyes. "Though we need to talk about those stitches on your arm. That's neither staying safe nor just a scratch."

Natasha rolled her eyes and kissed him again.


	2. Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha learns to deal with secrets and family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much for a few days until the next update... well  
> ___
> 
> Characters: Natasha, Bruce, Clint, Steve, the other Avengers, Barton Family

Natasha frowned as she watched Tony, Clint and Steve huddled together in the kitchen. They were speaking in hushed voices and acting weird for some days now. She would have known already what they were up to (because, let's face it, they _were_ up to something) if it weren't for them distracting her all her the time. Sooner or later she would find out what they were up to. It probably was too late then to prevent any explosions or other catastrophes, but oh well.

"Good morning," she greeted finally and watched with slight satisfaction as the men jumped apart. Natasha rolled her eyes and went to get herself a cup of coffee. "You know, you acting all innocent is way more suspicious than everything else you could do. Just saying."

Before one of the three could muster a response, Bruce entered the kitchen to refill his tea. "Hey, um, Natasha? I'd need you in the lab if you have the time. I want to run some tests with your Bites, see if there's a way to balance the damage a bit."

Natasha shot the three at the table one last glance before turning to Bruce. "Sure, why not?" While leaving she noticed the relieved sighs from the others, raising an eyebrow. She never had a problem with secrecy – she was a spy and assassin, after all – but she had thought within the team they were past that. After all they went through, it didn't make any sense to act like that. Yes, she still had some secrets and she expected the others to have theirs, too. But it was a completely different thing to keep one of them out of the loop when it might affect all of them.

"Hey, Bruce? You're sure you need me _now_ to test the Bites? And wouldn't that rather be Tony's field of expertise?"

"Well," Bruce began, clearing his throat and cleaning his glasses with his shirt. A lot of tells for one man. She almost feels sorry for him. Almost. "Well, yeah, normally it would be Tony's field but I figured I should acquaintance myself with the tech a bit more. Just in case Tony is otherwise occupied, you know?"

"Uh huh." Natasha crossed her arms and leant at his table, watching him work on her Bites for a while before he gave them to her.

"I changed the voltage a bit. They were quite powerful already, but some more resilient thugs could just shrug them off. Though too powerful would cause new problems. So now you can switch between two modi. One is for incapacitating enemies, rendering then unconscious. The other is for taking them out, accepting the probability of them dying from it."

Natasha frowned at him. "Since when are you pro killing?" Still she accepted her weapons, noticing no real change.

Bruce shrugged at her, his face darkening. "I'm not. I'm all for asking questions first. Just sometimes that's not possible and I'd rather have you safe at the next raiding of a Hydra base than sorry that you're weapons don't have enough power to deal with the bigger guys."

"How do I switch?" Natasha asked, simply accepting his explanation. With a few movements she had them at her wrists where they felt as comfortably as ever.

"Muscle movement," Bruce said and carefully, almost like a feather, placed his hand on top of hers. "Move it like this," he said and moved her hand, "and they are set to the lower setting. Moving them like this," and again he moved her hand gently, "and they change to the higher setting. I figured doing it like that would be easier for you, buttons are easier to malfunction."

"What if I activate one of the settings by chance? Can I somehow see which setting is activated?"

"Yes. The colour of your Bites will change. On the lower setting it is the light blue you already know. On the higher setting it will change to white. But we can alter that if you don't like it."

"No, that's fine." Natasha flicked her wrists and brought them to life, alternating between the two settings Bruce had showed her. "I'm just glad it's not red."

Bruce chuckled. "Yeah, Tony originally wanted to do that but I could talk him out of it. Said that you'd probably test them on him once you found out."

"Probably." Natasha smiled at him, then her gaze turned more inquisitive. "Now tell me, Doc… What are the others discussing that I'm not supposed to hear?"

"Uhm, nothing?"

"Is that a question?"

"I, uhm, I think you should leave now… I have to do some… stuff. Yeah, stuff for Tony, you know? So, uhm, yeah, it would be good if you'd leave now."

Natasha's gaze hardened even more but she turned around quickly and all but stomped out of the lab. It hurt more than it should, them keeping secrets from her.

Between the labs and her own floor, she ran into Clint. However he did it, he always seemed to know when he needed to find her, from the first day onward. It was his special skill. "Hey, Nat. There's someone on the phone for you." He handed her his phone with a smile.

Knowing exactly who was on the other hand, Natasha accepted it with a smile, her anger blown away instantly. "Hey kiddo."

"Auntie Nat!" Lila's excited voice was clearly to be heard over the speaker. Since Clints introduced the team to his family, it was way easier to stay in contact with them. "Daddy says you'll come visit soon. Can we play in the fort, then?"

"Sure, sweetie. Does it still stand after the last storm? Or do we have to repair it?"

"It was a bit damaged, but Cooper says he repaired it. But maybe you should look at it to make sure he did it right."

"Hey!" Cooper's protest was in the background, but loud enough that Clint and Natasha shared a smile over it. "I'm not stupid!"

"Yes, you are," Lila yelled back.

Natasha shook her head. "That's not nice, Lila."

"But it's true! He destroyed the gift I have for you."

"I'm sure it still is nice, whatever you did for me, Lila. I'm looking forward to get it."

"Mommy and I will also make cupcakes. For your b-"

"Okay, that's enough, Lila," Clint interrupted her quickly, snatched the phone out of Natasha's hand and turned off the speaker. "Okay, sweetie, give me mommy for a moment? Yes, now, please. Thank you." He smiled apologetically at Natasha and started walking towards the elevators, talking in hushed voices now.

Natasha raised her eyebrows. What the heck was going on? Yes, Clint acting weird was nothing unusual but still, even for him this was a new level.

~#~#~#~#~#~

"Nat? You in there?" Steve asked, his voice slightly raised so that she could hear him through her door.

Natasha chose not to answer. For days now all of them had acting weird, trying to keep something secret from her, and it had infuriated her more with every day that had passed. Some would say she was sulking, but Natasha didn't care. It was not normal for the team to be that way.

"I'm coming in now. You better be decent," Steve warned, his voice joking.

For a moment Natasha contemplated to take off her clothes just to irk him, but she had no nerve to tease him now. That alone was saying a lot. "What do you want, Rogers?"

Steve closed the door behind him when he heard her tone and frowned at her words. She only called him by his last name when she was angry or teasing and since nothing hinted at her teasing him… "What's wrong?"

"You ask that really? Like, honestly? Then you are dumber then I gave you credit for." Natasha took a deep breath and consciously crossed her arms, less she threw anything at him. "You weren't really talking to me those last few days and you expect me do think nothing of it? Really?"

Steve's gaze became somewhat relieved. "Yes, it might not have been the best way to do it… But I promise you it all adds up when you come out of here. I promise."

"If that's another plot to distract me, I swear to God-"

"It isn't. I swear, Natasha. Now, come on." He gently pulled her from the counter she had been standing at and out of her floor into the elevator. "You'll like it. But I need to cover your eyes."

"Is that some kink of yours? If so, how does Sharon like that?"

"It's no kink. Now shut up."

"You know that the only reason you're allowed to do that is because I trust you, right?" Natasha felt compelled to ask when Steve pulled a blindfold out of his back pocket.

Steve smiled softly. "I know. And you should know that I feel honoured by it."

"Uh huh."

All instincts within her screamed at her to fight when she couldn't see anymore. The soft swaying of the elevator – normally nearly undetectable – seemed stronger than usual as did the buzzing of the machinery. Natasha nearly jumped when she felt Steve's hand at her lower back to guide her. According to the time they spent in the elevator and the turns they took, they had to be in the common area somewhere. She heard some shuffling and hushed voices but before she could ask any questions, Steve pulled the blindfold away. And there they were. All of the team members and the Bartons. Both of her families together under a banner that stated _Happy Birthday_ in big, childish letters. There was a cake, too, and a table that held the presents.

Touched, Natasha blinked the tears away that wanted to escape at the surprise. "I still hate it, when you act all secret," she stated with a pointed look at the team while opening her arms to greet Cooper and Lila properly.

"Noted," Clint allowed with a grin and moved in to kiss her temple. "Happy birthday, birthday girl."


	3. Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha has to say goodbye to a dear friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CN animal death, grief
> 
> Characters: Natasha/Steve, Sarah, Akela, Fury

"Okay, careful," Steve murmured when he turned the key and opened the door. With one leg he hindered Akela from running to Natasha while he tried to enter the house at the same time. "Really, I left him just two hours ago or something like that. And I _know_ Bucky was with him while I was at the hospital."

"Aw, honey, we already established years ago he loves me more. Maybe you have more luck with our daughter," Natasha answered with a grin and kissed Steve on the cheek. Then she entered the house and hoisted the little bundle in her arms in a way she could greet Akela satisfyingly without letting the baby fall. "Yeah, I missed you too buddy. Been some long days, huh? We brought someone with us I'd like you to meet. You're ready for that? Alright, sit down. Sit! Good boy."

Akela wagged his tail while sitting impatiently. Steve held his collar for any case of emergency. He trusted Akela but he also knew the dog's curiosity and his eagerness to explore everything new though he wasn't the youngest anymore. Natasha lowered Sarah until Akela could see her chubby face. "That's Sarah," Natasha said quietly with a smile. "She's a part of this family now. I really hope you two get along with each other. That would mean a lot to us, you know?"

Akela cocked his head when Natasha presented him the baby. Then, carefully, he leaned in, still at least partly sitting, until he could sniff her face. Natasha and Steve both held their breath, ready to intervene at any moment. Whatever it was that he smelled, it caused Akela to gently lick Sarah's cheek. In response, Sarah scrunched up her nose, then blinked both confused and interested at the dog.

Natasha smiled. "You'll have a lot of fun together once Sarah's older." She petted Akela's head, glad that the dog seemed to accept their newest family member without any problems. She wouldn't have found it in her heart to give him away if he had reacted in a more dangerous way.

"Come on, I'll bring her to bed," Steve offered, finally releasing Akela's collar. "You have to be tired and should rest. Maybe we can order something to eat today or Bucky can bring us something."

"You know I love Bucky almost as much as you do and although he is a part of the family, today I would like it to be just the four of us. If that's alright with you." Gently she placed Sarah into Steve's arms, kissing her goodnight. "But why don't we invite him over tomorrow? He can practice holding her. In the hospital, he seemed rather afraid of our little girl."

"He will get used to her. Okay, so I bring her to bed and you take care of the food? Order whatever you like. And I'll call Bucky later."

"You're the best." Natasha also kissed Steve, then lightly tapped her leg to show Akela to follow her, a command the dog knew since he was a pup. But this time he only looked after her for a second or two until he decided to follow Steve instead. Natasha frowned. Although the dog disobeyed only sporadically, most of the time he had a reason to do so. That was why Natasha decided to sneak after him upstairs. The door to Sarah's room stood open and light shone out. She could hear Steve talking quietly to her and Sarah seemed tired enough already to whimper slightly so he knew to hurry. The redhead smiled. Raising Sarah would pose a challenge, that much she already knew. Her eyes caught Akela standing in the doorway, one of his front paws twitching as if he wasn't sure whether he was allowed inside or not. While the room had still been to be furnished, he had been constantly near them while they had put together the furniture and painted the walls. Now that this room obviously belonged to the tiny human being, he wasn't so sure anymore.

"You can come in if you're quiet," Steve called quietly from inside. That seemed to be everything Akela had needed. He carefully stepped inside and Natasha followed soundlessly until she occupied the spot where he had formerly been standing. Leaning against the frame, she observed the little scene in front of her with a smile.

Steve laid Sarah down into her crib. While he checked twice that the baby monitor did work, Akela slunk closer to the crib, sniffing slightly. Convinced that everything was alright, he huffed quietly, turned around and laid down.

"Seems like he likes her more than you," Steve noted with a grin when he turned to the door and found Natasha standing there.

Natasha shrugged. "Wait until she pulls his tail for the first time, then he'll come crawling back to me."

"If it makes you happy." Steve pulled her close when they left the room and left the door ajar, just in case Akela decided he wanted to be somewhere else for the night.

~#~#~#~#~#~

"Come on, Sarah. Show Uncle Bucky how big a girl you are. Walk to me, come on." Bucky kneeled on the floor, his hands outstretched. Sarah sat just a few steps away, mirroring Bucky's gesture every once in a while but refused to stand up.

Natasha coming back from a walk with Akela, entered the room. Akela, who had been on her heels, immediately sprung forwards, greeted Bucky with a wagging tail. The redhead gifted Bucky with a knowing smile. "She doesn't want to walk for you, does she?"

"No." Bucky groaned and tousled Akela's fur. "Steve showed me the video but I wanted to see for myself."

Natasha whistled shortly to gain Akela's attention. The dog looked at her with pricked ears. "Help Sarah to Bucky."

Akela walked over to Sarah and nudged her gently. Then he positioned himself at her side and whined softly. Sarah in return gripped his fur tightly and used him assistance to stand up. Together they made their way slowly towards Bucky, who regarded the scene before him with amazement. Instead of bringing Sarah all the way, Akela stopped shortly before Bucky.

"Come here, baby girl. You can do the rest alone, I'll catch you," he promised, his arms again outstretched. Sarah took her time to decide, but when all tugging and grouching didn't move Akela another step, she let go of his fur and stumbled on unsure legs to her uncle. Bucky caught her when she lost her balance and held her high. "You did it, Sarah! That was really, really good." He let her down again and stretched one arm to Akela to pet him. "You were great too, buddy. You'll look out for her, will you?"

"He's the best. She'll learn to walk without him, but if Akela gives her confidence, why should we not let him help her?"

"They seem like a good team," Bucky agreed and handed Sarah over to Natasha when the little girl demanded her mother loudly. "How old's Akela now?"

"We got him almost nine years ago. He was about half a year or so back then, we don't know for sure." Bucky nodded and smiled when the dog turned his belly towards him, demanding to be petted. Worry flickered for a moment over Natasha's face, but it was gone just as quick. "Thanks again for watching her. I love her, I really do, but sometimes it's nice to go running with the dog without having to fear to jostle her."

"My pleasure," Bucky answered, his attention completely on Akela. "She's easy to look after. Although that'll probably change once she can talk or, God forbid, is after the guys. Did you and Steve already decide who's gonna be the one to make her boyfriend's life a living hell?"

"Still debating. I want to do it to make sure the guy is honest with her. Steve wants to do it because he's afraid I'll scare the poor guy into therapy."

"Justified reason, if I'm allowed to throw in my two pennies worth," Bucky grinned.

Natasha scoffed. "As if _any_ of you guys will let her date before she's thirty. Isn't that right, Sarah? Your uncles all don't want you to have fun when you're old enough."

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "So you _wanna_ be grandma?"

"There are some modern-day inventions to prevent certain things from happening."

As a response, Bucky only raised one eyebrow even higher and looked pointedly at Sarah.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "We had every reason to be sure it wouldn't happen. Red Room, remember? But I don't regret it. I don't regret _her_."

"Ever thought of a sibling for her? A little brother, perhaps? James is a popular name again, I've heard."

Natasha grinned at him. "I'm sure it is." Then she grew serious again, watching Sarah play with her red hair. "We talked about it. Steve would like to have siblings for her. He wants her to have what he had with you growing up. But I… She's the kid of two Avengers. If someone wants to get to Steve or me, he only has to threaten her. I'm not saying Sarah's a weakness but rather she's in danger just because of her relationship to the Avengers. I don't want to bring another innocent child into this position. Steve understands that, but… I get his point too. I think, if I hadn't grown up in the Red Room, I would have liked to have a sister. Or a brother."

"She'll find friends," Bucky answered, wanting to lighten the mood. "You know, having an honorary brother can drive you nuts when he's like the punk. Maybe you want to save her from that experience."

"Frankly, I fear the day when Sarah and Akela decide to work against us. I don't think anything could stop them."

"No, probably not." Bucky returned her grin.

~#~#~#~#~#~

"Alright, Sarah, we have to go. Come on, you need you coat. It's cold outside." Natasha waited patiently at the door. Sarah's first day in playschool and although she had talked for days of nothing else, now she was taking her time. Big time.

Finally she arrived at the door, Akela carrying her tiny pink backpack in his mouth. "Can Akela come too?"

"No, sweetie, but you'll see him when you come home again." Patiently Natasha sat Sarah down on the little bench to put on her shoes.

"And if he misses me?"

"He won't have time to realize you're not home," Natasha answered, helping her in his coat. "I take him for a walk when I'm back home and after I picked you up, you two can play again together."

"But _I_ miss him there. I don't want to go if he can't come!" Stubbornly Sarah crossed her arms, a gesture she had learned from Natasha. But the frown on her little forehead was all Steve.

Natasha sighed and hunkered down to be on eye-level with her. "Look, Sarah. You know that your Uncle Clint is my best friend? But I also like to spend time with other friends. Akela wants to meet his dog-friends once in a while to play with them and your Dad and I would be very happy if you find some other kids to befriend and play with. That doesn't mean you'll like Akela any less or that he likes you any less. Just sometimes one needs some time with others, too. And I bet Akela would be thrilled if you found some new friends at playschool. They could come over sometime and you could play together with Akela."

"I don't like sharing him," Sarah answered quietly, her gaze towards the floor.

"Well, you share him already with daddy and me, you know." She pressed a gentle kiss to her daughter's crown. Akela moved closer after letting the backpack fall to the ground and nudged Sarah's hand to animate her to pet him.

Sarah obliged with a sad smile that almost broke Natasha's heart. "Can you bring Akela when you pick me up?"

"Sure thing. Now come on, we don't want you to be late on your first day."

Sarah let go of Akela und picked up the backpack. She hugged Akela goodbye one last time, then walked out the front door Natasha held open for her. Akela in turn laid down.

"I'll be back soon, buddy," Natasha promised with a smile.

~#~#~#~#~#~

It was the almost stomping steps that awoke both Steve and Natasha in the middle of the night. Within seconds they were wide awake, Natasha pointing a gun at the door and Steve standing beside the bed, his shield ready in hand. When they recognized the little figure in the doorframe, both lowered their weapons.

"Sarah, why are you up at this time?" Steve asked, placing the shield back on its place and ran his hand over his face.

"I think something's wrong with Akela." The six-year-old's voice shook slightly and blank fear was written in her eyes.

Natasha and Steve exchanged one quick glance. "Why don't you stay with daddy and I look after Akela? Try to sleep." Natasha abandoned her side of the bed and fixed a calming smile on her lips. She held the blanket up for Sarah to crawl under it, placed a reassuring kiss on her cheek and pulled the door close behind her. On the way to Sarah's room where Akela slept since the first night they had brought her home, Natasha allowed herself a moment of fear. She had known this day would come eventually but had dreaded it as much as Steve or Sarah. Memories of a cold dormitory, steel-framed beds and the fading warmth of a dog's body flooded her. She shook her head to clear it again. Now was not the time. Steve would take care of Sarah for now, but Akela counted on her. She would not disappoint him.

Natasha entered the child's room. Akela was lying on his belly, breathing heavily while his body shook. "It's alright, buddy," Natasha said soothingly and sat down beside him, petting him to ease the tension out of his body. "We both knew this day would come sooner or later. Remember your last check at the vet? If you need to go now, that's fine. We all will miss you but none of us would want to force you to stay. Sarah knows of the pills you had to take, though I don't think she understands fully why you needed those." She could feel Akela slowly relaxing beneath her touches. Natasha laid down beside him on the floor, propped up on one elbow and the other hand continuing to stroke his fur. "We had a great time together, didn't we?" she continued quietly. "I'm really glad Steve caught me off guard back then. And I'm happy you trusted me; deservedly, I hope. Sarah couldn't have wished for a better friend growing up. Remember when Nick first came to visit after we brought her home? You never were aggressive, but you all but _growled_ at him when he tried to hold her. And he growled right back at you. You were surprised by that, weren't you? Don't worry, I was, too. Steve and I, we were so _relieved_ when you decided to be her protector rather to be jealous at her. Seems to happen often as I've heard. And we were worried. But you're no ordinary dog, right, buddy? You're special. Thank you for all those years. I don't know how to make this any easier on you, Akela. I'm sorry. But I'll stay with you, alright? You won't be alone. If that's okay with you, Sarah will say goodbye afterwards. She's so young, I… I don't want her to see you like this. If that's okay with you. God, I don't know what to do."

Natasha moved closer to Akela to share her body's warmth with him and buried her face in his fur for a moment. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she looked at him again. "Sorry, buddy. Being with SHIELD and the Avengers made me soft and after Sarah was born… But I don't want you to worry about me, alright? I'll be okay. Steve'll be okay. And Sarah, too. Once she's older she'll appreciate having you growing up. You taught her so much and if she's half the person I think her to be, she'll never really forget you. Neither will I. Thank you for being my second chance. For being everything one could wish from a dog. For being a member of our little family. I'm really glad someone abandoned you, otherwise we'd have really missed out on something."

Akela's laboured breath was slower now, almost undetectable. His eyes fluttered closer with every moment that passed and the tension had left his body. Natasha moved her hand to his head, feeling the soft fur there between his ears. With one finger she stroked from between his eyes down to his nose, causing Akela to close his eyes. "Sleep now," she whispered, not trusting her voice. "I'll be there when you wake up. No need to be afraid."

~#~#~#~#~#~

"Hey munchkin. Everything alright?" Fury sat down beside Sarah in the shadow of the cherry tree in the garden. Sarah only looked at him like he wasn't serious, then held her gaze low again. Fury grimaced. "Sorry, dumb question. Maybe I'm getting old." They sat in quiet for a while which Fury used to take a closer look at the girl. She was pale, dark rings underneath her red eyes. It gave his heart a painful twist. "Your dad tells me you won't talk to your mom."

"She didn't tell me. She knew what was happening and she didn't tell me so I could say goodbye in time. I hate her!"

"Hate is a very strong emotion," Fury mused, leaning against the tree trunk. "There are not many people I ever really hated in my life but none of them tried to protect me."

"She wasn't protecting me."

"Are you sure about that? You know, if I had been at your place that night, I'd be pretty scared."

"I wasn't," Sarah answered stubbornly.

A small smile flickered across Fury's face, but he was serious only a moment later. "Well, then you are an extraordinary girl. I bet your mom was scared too."

Sarah sniffed loudly. "I just wanted to say goodbye to him. He was my friend!"

"Akela was everyone's friend as long as no one tried to threaten his family. But you did say goodbye when you buried him, didn't you? As did your dad. Is he angry at your mother too?"

"No, but dad's never angry at her."

Fury chuckled lowly. "Now, that's not true. He might not yell at her but he has his own way of being angry. Trust me, I've seen him being angry at Natasha when they worked together. But you know what? In the end, they always managed to make it up. Otherwise you wouldn't be here." Again, it was quiet for some time. "Your dad also told me he's worried about you. Because you don't sleep so well."

Sarah shrugged her little shoulders. "Akela was always there to protect me from monsters when I was sleeping. But without him I have nightmares."

"That's what I thought." Fury nodded and reached inside his coat he was wearing despite the warm day. "That's why I brought you this." He gave her a plush dog, a replica of Akela. It was perfect unto the last coloured hair on his head, but way smaller so that it wouldn't take too much room when Sarah took it into bed.

The little girl's eyes grew big with surprise and something that could almost be relief. "Where did you get that?"

"I talked with your Uncle Tony, he needed a new project. It doesn't move but maybe it still keeps the nightmares at bay. I know that this toy won't be able to replace Akela; nothing can. But maybe it can be there until it doesn't hurt so much anymore."

"Thank you." Sarah's voice was choked and she pressed the plush tightly against herself. "Do you think I'll see him again. Daddy says, when we die we go to heaven but are dogs also allowed there?"

"Well, I'm not sure I'm better informed than your dad on that matter, but if any dog ever deserved to go to heaven it's Akela. That I'm sure of. But will you do me a favour? Talk to your mother. She only wanted the best for you and she also lost a friend. It's not easy for her, too, although she doesn't seem like it. But that's how your mom deals with such things. She hasn't learned it any other way, hasn't learned that crying is okay and can do you something good sometimes."

"Did Uncle Tony build her an Akela too to remember him?"

"No. This plush is only for you. It's unique. But you can give her this, if you like." Fury again reached inside his coat and pulled out a wristband and a lanyard keychain, both made of something that looked suspiciously like Akela's last collar. "The wristband's for your mom, the other one for your dad. Though I don't think either one of them will forget the dog."

"Thank you, grandpa." Sarah slung her arms around Fury's neck and held onto him tightly, burying her face in his neck and the plush toy firmly gripped in one hand.

Fury smiled and returned the hug. "For you, always. Shall we give those to your parents?" Sarah nodded but refused to let go so that he held her in place, stood up and carried her over to the house, hoping he had been able to offer at least some kind of consolation for all of them.


	4. Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha and Bucky take in a stray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CN mentions of animal cruelty
> 
> Characters: Natasha/Bucky, Tony
> 
> I'm sorry, here comes another dog ^^  
> I already prepared this chapter for you yesterday, so why not post it? (Have I mentioned that I *love* the possibility to draft chapters?)
> 
> By the way, how many of you would be interested in another oneshot collection with Bucky in the center? I am currently working at one and would have 15 chapters at the ready so far?

„Morning," James greeted her without looking up from the paper he was reading when he heard Natasha's soft steps coming from the bedroom. With a quick movement of his head he flicked his hair back; it annoyed him, being always in the way, but he refused to cut it.

"Hold still." Natasha moved to stand behind him and gathered his hair very carefully at the back of his head to tie it into a bun. "There you go. Good morning." She kissed his cheek, her hand lingering a moment longer at his neck before she went to pour herself a cup of coffee.

Self-consciously, James touched the bun. "It looks silly."

"You haven't even seen yourself in the mirror yet." She threw him an amused look over her shoulder as she opened the fridge to take out the yoghurt. "And I wouldn't let you run around looking like an idiot."

James grinned. "No?"

"Well, not when I can help it." Natasha sat down at the table with him and started munching her breakfast. "If you want to, I can pick you up at the shelter after the last lesson. "It's supposed to rain later."

"Yeah. Thanks."

Natasha stopped eating and looked at him, her gaze serious. "What's wrong?"

James sighed and scrubbed his right hand over his face. "I don't know. I think I'm a bit tired of the city. And don't get me wrong, I love helping at the shelter, it's just… Some days it seems so pointless."

Natasha hid her sympathy well. She knew he'd mistake it for pity and that wouldn't be very helpful. When he had started working at the animal shelter after the Young Avengers had taken over, claiming he'd rather work with animals than people because the former weren't afraid of his arm, she had been relieved he'd found something to do. Still there were days when she couldn't help but worry about him.

"How about I ask Clint whether we can spend the weekend at the farm? Get some fresh air, relax a bit. Or we could visit Steve and Sharon at the compound. It's been some time we have last seen them."

A small smile tugged his lips. "I do miss the punk."

"Then that's settled." Natasha reached for his hand and squeezed it. "I pick you up after my last class and then we drive upstate. Or you come to the studio when you're done."

"I don't… Please don't think you're not enough, alright?" James's voice sounded almost desperate. Almost. "I know I would go crazy without you, but-"

"But sometimes you need your best friend. There's nothing wrong with that, James. Nothing at all." The smile she gifted him was all reassurance. "So don't worry about me, okay?"

James shook his head and the tension drained from his shoulders. "I don't deserve you."

"Nonsense." Natasha stood up to bring her empty bowl to the sink and carded the fingers of her free hand through his hair. "We work because we understand that there are difficult days and we need people knowing us. It's just like you don't judge me when I need to see Clint. So really, don't worry about it."

"Okay." James caught her hand and kissed the palm of it. "Still, thank you."

"You're very welcome. Say hello to Liho for me?" The black cat had been at the shelter since forever. It's aloofness – and sometimes aggressiveness – made it hard to find a permanent home for her.

"Of course." James had asked her more than once already why they didn't adopt Liho; Natasha clearly liked her and the cat seemed to have a soft spot for the former spy. At least Natasha was one of the few people able to pet her and keep all of her fingers. But Natasha said she wasn't ready for a pet since they didn't had the time to care for it properly and James didn't want to pressure her. "Have fun at the studio."

"I always have." Natasha grinned at him, her eyes shining. Giving classes in ballet and self-defence hat been one of her better ideas those last years. "See you later."

~#~#~#~#~#~

The day had passed rather quickly. Between classes, Natasha had texted Steve, warning him that they would be coming over for the weekend. She hoped that he was able to help James feel better again. She had also texted James to make sure he was alright. If he was annoyed by her mother-henning, he didn't let on.

It had started to rain, so Natasha was not surprised when James didn't wait for her outside the shelter. She parked the car and pulled on the hood of the jacket she had swiped from Tony during her stint as Natalie Rushman before she went out into the rain. Fast steps brought her to the shelter that was ready to close for the night.

"Hey, Natasha. How was your day?" the girl at the reception greeted her warmly.

"Hey Abby." Natasha smiled. She liked the kid who always seemed to be in a good mood. "It was good. The girls and I worked on their routine for the premiere. You coming?"

"If I can manage, sure. If you're looking for your boyfriend, he's at the back with the newbie. You might have to face the question again, though."

"How comes?" Natasha finally threw the hood back and looked at the girl curiously.

Abby shrugged. "Bucky took a liking to the poor guy. He barely left him today at all. You'll see why."

"Alright." Natasha raised her eyebrow but didn't pro any further. "Then I better go fetch him." She moved down the corridor to the partition where she knew the new dogs were kept. Although it almost pained her, she did not stop on her way to pet any animals, save for Liho. There were so many looking for a place to belong. So many reminding her of a lonely child in the Russian cold. She would love to give some of them a home, but did they have the time and the knowledge to properly care for any of them? Didn't they have enough problems with themselves? Could they provide what those animals needed? Most times, Natasha wasn't too sure.

When she rounded the last corner, she saw James sitting on the ground of one of the kennels, his back at the wall. He petted a dark, big-ish dog that was lying beside him on his belly, his head lying on his front paw. A soft smile grazed her lips. She knew James was a big softie but it was nice to see it outside of their apartment. "Found a friend?"

The smile that tugged on one corner of his mouth told her he wasn't surprised to hear her voice though he had yet to look up. "Yeah. He's today's new kid. Couldn't really leave him alone."

Natasha stood at the front of the kennel. The dog seemed nice enough, but since she didn't work there she didn't want to just enter any kennel. "What's his name?"

"Jack." James finally looked up, the smile gone again. "He's a good boy. If the world were somewhat right, he wouldn't be here."

"Then why is he?" Natasha noticed a flash of white bandages. "Is he badly hurt?"

"He's got run over by the car. When the vet told the owner he would lose his leg, he never came back to pick him up. Just left him there. The vet brought him here after he's healed enough. Said she doesn't think he'll get adopted very soon. He's no puppy anymore and there might be some more operations he'll need. Plus, most people don't want a broken dog."

"That her words?" Anger boiled within her. Neither animal nor people were _broken_ just because they'd lost a limb.

James shook his head. "Not quite. But it was clear what she meant. And she wasn't wrong. People who came here today never gave him so much as a second glance. Though he manages well with three legs. Plays just as much as the rest of the little bastards. Needs some practice and training, though; he tires quicker than the others. But that's to be expected, to be honest." He sighed, petted the dog's head one last time and got up. "See ya on Monday, buddy."

When he walked towards the door, Jack got up and hobbled after him, whined softly and touched his nose to James's hand. It broke Natasha's heart. That James accepted the hug she offered to him non-verbally after he'd closed the kennel behind him told her everything she needed to know. His arms wrapped tightly around her and he buried his face in her hair while composing himself.

"You wanna take him home?" Natasha asked quietly.

James took a step back and looked at her with big eyes. "Are you serious?"

"I'm sure I could take him with me to the studio if you can't take him with you here so he wouldn't be alone all day." She shrugged with one shoulder and smiled softly at him. "And I think you two would be a good team."

"The three of us," James corrected her quickly. His gaze locked onto hers intently. "Are you sure? Last time I asked you didn't want a pet."

"Last time you asked it wasn't about a dog that got overlooked just because he wasn't perfect by normal people's standards. He looks perfect to me. There's nothing wrong with him and I wished other people would be able to see that, too, but since they don't it's up to us to get him a place where he can belong," Natasha answered and met his gaze confidently.

Somehow, James got the feeling she wasn't talking about Jack anymore.

When he didn't react, she kissed him and gave him a light push. "Go on. Fill out the paperwork. I've got a call to make."

"I love you," James whispered breathlessly, a big grin on his face. "God, Natalia, I can never thank you for that."

"You can start with a foot rub," Natasha answered with a playful grin. "Now go, before Abby's going home."

"Yes, ma'am." He kissed her again and then jogged off.

Natasha smiled after him and cowered done to greet Jack properly. "Hey, buddy. I know just the man to help you. But don't tell James, alright?" With one hand occupied, she used the other to fish out the mobile in her pocket and dial a number. It took less than three rings until he picked up.

"Red, that's a surprise. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Tony, I've got a favour to ask. Can you come to the compound this weekend? I've got someone who could do with a prosthetic."

"Did Barnes mess it up again? I swear, the mechanics are alright."

"No, it's not about James. His name's Jack and he is a dog. Our dog. Would you take a look at him?"

"Sure thing. Meet you there."

"Thank you, Tony. I owe you."

"Don't say that too loud. I have a daugther who might need some looking after so Pepper and I can have some time wo ourselves, if you know what I mean."

"Not a problem. Morgan loves me, I'm her favourite aunt."

"Yeah, don't know how you do that."

"Gotta go. Thanks again."

"You're welcome, Red. See you tomorrow at the compound."


	5. Seeking Solace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha has nightmares and goes to Clint for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Natasha, Clint

Natasha awoke with a gasp, her legs pulled up to her chest. Her hands were clutching the pillow and cold sweat beaded on her forehead despite her covers lying in a heap on the floor beside the bed. The pictures of her nightmare refused to vanish in the moonlight and continued to haunt her mind. She could _feel_ the heat of the fire burning the hospital to ashes, hear the screams of the children. She remembered the sticky feeling of the blood on her hands.

It took her a moment to recognize her quarters at SHIELD headquarters. Natasha reached with shaking hands for the alarm clock on the nightstand. Half past two in the morning. The alarm wouldn't go off for another four hours but Natasha knew she wouldn't get anymore sleep. Not after this nightmare that haunted her for nearly a month now.

She got up, slipping into an oversized sweater she had borrowed from Clint some time ago when she had come fresh into the agency. He had given her the sweater after a day in the gym. She had shivered in the colder corridors after their workout, but hadn't said a word about the goose bumps along her arms. Clint had noticed either way, had slipped out of his sweater he had pulled over his training gear and had given it to her without offering any chance of declining. Natasha had kept it since then.

She felt like she couldn't stand being alone anymore. Clint had told her more than once he would be there if she needed him to be, no matter the time. Whether he really expected her to show up in the middle of the night she was about to find out. Natasha would rather avoid meeting anyone on the way to Clint's room and climbed out of the window since her mental state was nobody's business. But she didn't trust Fury enough to believe he hadn't installed some sort of security to notify him should she try to leave the Triskelion that way. Some program probably also wrote down when her front door was being opened but that was a lot less compromising than leaving her quarters through the window.

Personally, she wouldn't mind wandering the corridors only in the sweater cladding her figure but she knew there would be some agents complaining about her "barbaric" Russian behaviour. That was why she grabbed a pair of loose pants and put them on before taking her keys and opening the door separating her from the rest of the Triskelion. She carefully poked out her head to look up and down the corridor. No one out there. Of course. Those who were on the floor already slept soundly, probably undisturbed by nightmares and those tired of working the night's shift wouldn't be heard until the sun rose over the roofs of Washington. Natasha pulled the door close behind her quietly and started her journey, her bare feet almost soundlessly against the cool tiles. She had often been at Clint's place, he having her invited over in the past for a beer or two, so by now she was able to find her way blindfolded.

Finally, she reached Clint's door. Natasha knew he only kept it closed, not locked, so she could more easily slip in whenever she wanted to. He'd even given her the keys after she had managed to break in the third time. Tonight Natasha would have knocked if it had been any good – she was Russian, after all, not a barbarian – but since Clint more often than not took out his hearing aids, she could spent the whole night knocking on his door. Instead Natasha used the key, opened the door, quietly pushed it shut again and put the keys back in her pockets.

Clint's quarters were as big (or small) as her own, only more personal. There was a collection of movies Natasha had watched years back to understand cultural references to fit in. Never out of joy. That was only something Clint had declared his personal mission: making watching movies a thing one did out of joy. Arrows were lying around and the remnants of a late snack were placed on the kitchen counter. There were some selected posters on the wall, showing bands or movie characters. Files were lying on the table, spreading their contents over the whole surface. For a moment, Natasha was tempted to look through them, the curiosity almost automatically pulling her towards the table. But then she felt the heat of the fire again on her neck and instead directed her feet towards Clint's bedroom.

The door stood slightly ajar and Natasha pushed it further open, expecting the inevitable squeak of the hinges. Clint was still asleep, snoring softly. Natasha went back to the sofa and took the blanket from there before returning to the bedroom. The moonlight illuminated enough for her to find the chair in the corner where Clint used to throw his clothes. Seemingly, he had decided to use the laundry box Laura had given him the last time he'd been at the farm after Natasha had mentioned his habits with a knowing smirk. Now it was _her_ chair.

She was trying to find a comfortable position on the chair when Clint sat up. "Thought I'd heard something," he said, his voice thick with sleep. "What's up? You need a hug?"

Natasha shrugged. She still wasn't used to voicing what she wanted or needed when it came to her emotions.

Clint lighted the lamp on his nightstand and sat further up against the headboard. "Come here." He patted the space beside him. "Did you dream again?"

"The hospital fire," Natasha confirmed and took the blanket with her when she sat on the bed.

The archer wrapped her carefully in the blanket and made her lean against his shoulder. An anger flared up deep within him. It were nights like these when it hit him that Natasha had to grow up way too early. That she probably never experienced receiving solace by someone else. That she was trained to be an assassin before she could read or write. That she killed more people he cared to count because she had no other choice. Still his face remained soft when he gently laid an arm around her. It had taken a lot of time until she stopped – or pretended to do so – expecting ulterior motives behind every touch, be it hug or high five. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He could feel Natasha shrug beneath her blanket. "I wouldn't know what to say beside the things you already know. I set a hospital on fire, burning children only so the KGB could hide the nuclear pollution. They would have died either way, but still…" She pulled her legs closer to her chest.

Now Clint also laid his other arm around her. "If you want to cry, I won't tell. I promise." His voice was soft and he gently rubbed her arms in a soothing way.

"Cry for whom? Those people are long dead and I won't cry for myself because I sure as hell don't deserve it." Natasha looked up at him, her expression blank. "You knew what I had done when SHIELD sent you out to kill me. Why didn't you end it then and there?"

It wasn't the first time they had this talk, usually after one of Natasha's nightmares or something had reminded her of her time in the Red Room, her missions. And so far, Clint had told her the same every time she'd asked. "Because I knew you were capable of being good. Of doing good. And you were only a girl. You might call yourself a young woman, but all I saw was a girl. You can deny it or not but you were afraid then. No one pisses off the KGB without learning fear. So I wanted to help you. If I had seen you as the deadly woman you are, I might have followed my orders. But since I saw the girl you also were, the girl I knew you could be if one someone gave you the chance, I couldn't kill you. And until today I don't think I've made a mistake."

"Even though you ended up with me as your partner?" A soft smile someone who didn't know her wouldn't even notice tucked on her lips.

"Even though I ended up with you. You're the best partner I ever had," Clint assured her with a grin.

Natasha scoffed. "Yeah, Coulson told me I'm the only one able to cope with your sense of humour for that long. Not to speak of your sparkling personality."

"Well, I'm special. Of course there are a lot who can't keep up with me."

"Keep telling that to yourself if it makes you happy." Natasha worked hard to conceal a yawn, but failed. "I can stay until I have my appointment with Fury?"

"Sure thing." Clint let go off her to hold the blanket up. "I'll wake you if you have another nightmare."

Natasha slid under the covers and snuggled gratefully back in his embrace. "Sorry in advance for the kicking and punching."

"Nah, don't be. Whether you bruise me here or in the gym really doesn't make a difference."

"Thank you," she muttered nearly unintelligible.

Clint smiled. He knew she didn't mean his permission to punch him. He turned down the lights, pulled her close and shut his eyes.


	6. Break Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There comes a point when you need to acknowledge you broke apart a long time ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Natasha, Bruce

Thanos's snap had happened four days ago. There were some people they still didn't know whether they were alive or not. There were others they were sure were dead. And others still who were mercifully alive. The world was still reeling and it would be a long time until anything would ever be close to being okay again.

Natasha had had enough. She'd enough of being an Avenger, enough of fighting when it made no difference at all. There was only one thing left before she would retreat to Clint's farm for a while. About what would happen then, Natasha had no plan. But she couldn't stay here, at the Facility. Not anymore. Tony had still not returned from space; who knew if he ever would. Steve was not himself anymore; losing Bucky, Sam and Wanda like that had broken him. Thor was already gone again, trying to find his people and the racoon's friends chasing some childish hope that Loki was, despite everything, still alive.

Natasha entered the lab where Bruce had tried to find a way to contact Tony with Shuri's tech. The newly crowned queen obviously had no time to play anymore so he had taken over some of her stuff and brought it with him to the states. "Hey," Natasha greeted softly after watching him for a while; he was only ever truly at peace surrounded by science.

Bruce looked up from his monitor to meet her gaze. "Hey," he repeated her greeting back at her with a gently but tired smile. Then he looked at her more closely, questioningly. "You're leaving?"

It was eerie how well he had learned to read her in their time together. Or maybe she just had grown soft. Broken? "Yeah. But I wanted to talk with you first. About us," she tacked on when he obviously didn't understand immediately.

"Oh. Yeah, sure." He got up and wrung his hands nervously.

Natasha took a breath and made a point of not evading his gaze. He deserved her honesty, after all. No more deceiving. "I'm sorry I pushed you off that cliff and forced you to transition. I never wanted you to be a prisoner of the Big Guy."

"I know," Bruce reassured her quickly. "And I never wanted to leave you. Not like that, anyway."

"You didn't exactly have a saying in that back then." Natasha smiled sadly, prompting Bruce to hesitantly reach out for her. But she took one measured step back, evading his touch.

Bruce let his hand fall down again. "I… I know a lot has happened. For you more than for me. But… I'd like to pick this – _us_ – up where we left it. Ort start it all over. Your call."

"I don't think that's our path," Natasha objected quietly.

"Why not?" Again Bruce moved towards her but this time Natasha let it happen; she _had_ missed him. "Remember when we wanted to run with it? I'm still up for that. The world's a mess, more so now than ever before. I want to be with you, Nat. It had been your voice that brought me back on Sakaar. Let's run with this."

They were silent for a long time. Then, finally, Natasha spoke up, her voice huskier than usual. "What about your place here? About finding Tony? Helping people? Can you leave that behind just like that?"

"Yes. I mean, no. I mean…" Bruce trailed off but kept her hand in his, playing with her fingers. "No," he finally said with regret in his voice. "But maybe you don't have to leave. Not right now, at least. I'd like to know what you did during those past two years. How you experienced everything. Tony gave me the short version, before… well, before he left."

"It wouldn't be a nice story," Natasha shrugged it off. "And yes, I need to leave. There nothing keeping me here, anymore. The world doesn't need Avengers right now, there is no _team_ anymore; even less than before Thanos showed up. I need to stop trying to save everyone and to stop wiping my ledger. There's no sense anymore. Not really. There are people that are my family that need me right now more than the world as a whole ever could because their little world has been shattered. They need their Auntie Nat."

"No one's keeping you here anymore?" Bruce repeated, his voice sounding defeated. "Do you mean that?"

Natasha braced herself with a breath and slowly pulled her hand from his grasp. "Yes," she finally said, apology, regret, sadness and seriousness at equal parts in her voice. "As you said, Bruce, it's been two years. I've had time to make my peace with it. I was in denial, I cursed you, I cried for you. And I moved on. Because you weren't to be found and I' not the type of girl to orient my whole life towards a man who may or may not return. Not anymore, at least. I've grown up in that department, too."

"But _I_ didn't have the time," Bruce said, disappointment and the beginnings of anger fighting on his face. "For me, Sokovia was just a few weeks ago. At most. I know that this is nothing to hold against you, _I know_ , but… It's hard to swallow right now."

"I know. And I'm sorry for that. We're not on the same page in this relationship and I don't know if we ever were."

"What do you mean?"

Natasha shrugged and gifted him a sad smile. "The dead stay dead. For me more than for you. I don't think that thought has already changed with you. Not really, at least. I've came to accept that I'm not a monster. Or at least that the monster isn't the part that defines me. What about you and the Big Guy?"

"He cost me two years of my life and-"

"And he had his reasons," Natasha interrupted him. "I don't want to defend him leaving, really, I don't. But think, Bruce. Most people here hate him. Isn't it understandable he wanted to get away from that? To turn his back to the life where he is the big, green, angry monster no one likes and everybody fears? Can you really blame him?"

"You like him," Bruce answered rather weakly.

Natasha smiled at him. "Yes. And you, too. But not like that. Not anymore. I'm sorry, Bruce. I would offer you my friendship if it weren't so cliché but that's all I have to offer."

Bruce met her gaze silently for a longer time than Natasha anticipated. "Your friendship is more than I would ask," he finally said quietly and shrugged. "I guess this time we really missed our window."

"Yeah." Natasha felt a lump forming in her throat; it was weird seeing the end of their relationship now as final as it was although she had had two years to prepare herself for this day. She didn't dare imagine how Bruce must be feeling. "But please let me know if you hear something from Tony. Despite everything, I miss that guy, though I will deny I ever said that."

"You have that special hate-love going on from the beginning," Bruce joked but sighed the moment after. "Of course I'll let you know. After all, we're friends, right?"

"We are."

"Good." Bruce nodded. "And tell Clint I'm sorry for him and his family, will you? I know that doesn't mean much but if he ever needs help with whatever…"

"I'll let you know," Natasha promised. "I'm sorry I'm leaving you to this Facility but I can't stand being here any longer."

"I understand that. Believe me, I do." Silence hung between them for a few minutes, interrupted only by the beeping and whirring of the computers in the background. "Well, then… Take care of you. And don't be a stranger." He made the last part sound like a question.

Natasha shook her head. "I try not to. Goodbye, Bruce." She levitated herself on the tips of her toes and fleetingly kissed the stubble on his cheek before turning around to leave the lab. "Oh, and Bruce? Tell the Big Guy I have a bone to pick with him once he decides an appearance is in order."

She heard a soft chuckle behind him. "I know on who my money is. Goodbye, Natasha."

Natasha nodded then left the lab for good. She felt a weird mixture of ease and sadness now that she talked with Bruce. It felt good to have everything resolved but at the same time it was a goodbye to a good time and a door in the face to the future it might have been. But Natasha had changed. She wasn't the same woman anymore like the one who practiced the lullaby, who opened herself up in a tiny guestroom to a man she'd never thought she would trust that much. Now she had a duffel to pack and a plane to catch.


	7. Eden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha spents some time to be Auntie Nat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Natasha, Lila, Cooper, Clint

Natasha had been sleeping like a baby in her room at the Barton's farm – the room that once had been just a guestroom – until Lila jumped on the bed. She woke instantly, looking in the girl's brown eyes that were only inches from her face.

"It's morning," Lila whispered with a smile too big for this time of the day. "You promised we would go and build a fort today."

"And why are you whispering?" Natasha asked whispering as well, suppressing a yawn. She really needed to lock her door before going to bed.

Lila at least had the decency to look ashamed. Goddammit, that girl knew how to wrap her around her little finger! "Mom and Dad are still sleeping and I don't want to wake them. And I don't want Cooper to come along. He always spoils things."

Natasha groaned inwardly. Lila was afraid to wake her parents, but waking an assassin was alright? Given, the girl probably neither knew about her past nor her job, it was no wonder. "Sweetie, we can't just go off into the woods without letting your parents know. Why don't the two of us make breakfast? The smell will at least wake your dad, trust me, and then we can tell him where we are going," Natasha suggested.

Lila pouted. "But daddy says you cannot cook!"

Natasha's looks darkens for a second. _Traitor._ "Well, I can manage to make some coffee. That way we'll wake your dad and he can make the real breakfast. Sounds better?"

"Yay!" Lila grinned from ear to ear and scrambled from the bed.

"And just for record, I'm versed in the basics of fending for myself, just that you know." Natasha enjoys the warmth of her bad one moment more before slipping out of her blanket, sitting up and stretching her muscles. One look out of the window showed her that the day promised to be sunny. The first wisps of fog were already rising and with a little bit of luck it would be a warm enough spring day to wear the lighter jacket. Though that was something she left for Clint to decide; he would kill her if Lila would catch a cold just because she suggested to keep the coats in the closet.

"You coming, Auntie Nat?" Lila waited in the doorway, almost bouncing on her little feet. Natasha made a mental note to remember to not promise her any activities for a certain day. She loved the energy the kids had and she even so loved spending time with them. But sometimes – especially on days when she was off duty – she liked to sleep in instead of getting up in the wee hours of the morning.

Natasha followed Lila into the kitchen and started working on the coffee machine. It wasn't long until the first drops started to collect in the pot. "You want a cocoa, Lila?" The eyes of the little girl started to gleam and Natasha chuckled to herself. Without much searching she found the box containing the cocoa and stirred some of it with a glass of milk. "Here you go."

"What see my old eyes?" Clint stepped in his pyjama into the kitchen and grinned at Natasha. "The little devil dragged you out of bed, huh?"

"No!" Lila protested. "I was really careful when I woke Auntie Nat."

"Sure you were, sweetie," Clint answered, gave his daughter a little kiss on the crown of her head and went to fill a mug with coffee. "So you want to go into the forest today? Make sure to wear your warm jacket, Lila. And a scarf won't hurt. Will be cold for a while today, I guess."

"Do we have to take Cooper with us?" Lila's voice sounded almost whining, but she tried to keep it together. "He always breaks things."

"He's your brother, Lila," Natasha answered. "One day you'll be glad to have him, so yes, he will come with us if he wants to. Trust me, we'll still have fun."

"Fine," Lila mumbled and sipped at her cocoa.

Clint shook his head with a smile before turning to Natasha. "Just make sure they don't smash each other's heads with some log."

Natasha poured herself a coffee as well and leaned against the counter. "They aren't Steve and Tony locked together in an elevator. We're gonna be fine, I promise. I'm Auntie Nat, I can handle your kids. And you and Laura can need some time for yourselves, so stop whining already and make some breakfast."

"Yes, Ma'am." Clint saluted with a mock serious face and started to collect the things he needed.

In the end, Clint not only prepared a breakfast for all of them but also some sandwiches for the fort-building crew. Nat supervised Cooper and Lila lacing their shoes and slipping into their jackets, promised Laura and Clint again to be careful, gave little Nathaniel a goodbye kiss and went with the other two children towards the forest. A few days ago she had already looked for the right place for their fort; she wanted it to be close enough to the farm, so Cooper and Lila could go and play there even if Clint and herself were back at HQ and Laura had no time to go out here with them.

"What are we gonna do now?" Cooper asked with a big grin and looked around. They still were in the outskirts of the forest with the trees not being too close to each other. The farm was barely visible through the foliage but it was still near enough for any case of emergency. Not that Natasha hoped it would come that far.

"Now," Natasha answered, "we're gonna looking for some branches. Before you knock them off the trees, look first what lies around. They shouldn't be so dry or wet that when you pick them up they break. More something in the middle. We need all kinds of them, right now it doesn't matter whether they're long or short. If they still have some leaves or stubbles from twigs on them, just break those off. Do you think you can find those?"

"Of course!" Both children practically bounced around.

Before they were out and going, Natasha called them back. "Don't go too far into the forest, alright? I don't wanna go searching for you. And if you find something too heavy for you, it's not a shame to tell me and I will get it. Understood? Good. Then off you go." She smiled watching the kids jump through the forest, all animosity from ten minutes before seemingly forgotten. Natasha turned around to the two forked trees not standing very far from each other. With some effort she managed to place a thicker branch in a way so that both trees support one end of it; it almost looked like a tent without tarpaulin, but it was high enough that both Lila and Cooper would be able to stand in their little fort once it was done.

"Look, Auntie Nat! That's a right one?" Cooper asked, dragging a whole bunch of branches behind him.

Natasha smiled at him. "Looks good, Cooper. Where's Lila?"

"Here!" the girl squeaked, dragging much less than Cooper but had a big smile on her face. "Are those enough?"

"No, but I'll help you with it. You see the big branch over there between the trees?" Natasha waited for the kids nodding before continuing. "We're now gonna lean the branches you found against this one. I brought some strings so the branches won't get out of place by time."

And with a grin the kids went to work. Natasha found it oddly relaxing spending her time with the two of them, instead of training the new recruits at the headquarter. She enjoyed having a few days off and when she had asked Clint if she could come over, he had only told her that her room was always ready for her. It was nice having a place she not only could call home but where also waited her family for her. Because that's what the Bartons were, her family. Clint was the brother she never had had before and although they might have had a difficult start, Laura and her had grown very close. Being a honorary aunt for the kids was just a bonus she would have never thought of. Yes, she loved being at HQ and she liked the Avengers; they were her working family, so to speak. But she was most grateful for having the Bartons where she could just be Natasha. Although she had to have her phone always with her, just in case there was some sort of emergency. Though Rogers would be smart to think twice about calling her; he wouldn't get her back without a valid reason.

"Hey, how are ya doing?" Clint stepped forward from between the trees and laughter sparkled in his eyes. Both his children and Natasha were covered in leaves, bark and dirt, working together to string on of the last branches to the ridge. "Thought you could use this." He showed them the old tarpaulin he had found in the barn.

Natasha turned around. "Looks good. You're just right, Barton. Come, give me a hand."

Clint sighed playfully and stepped beside her to hold the branch in the right place so Natasha could tie it down securely. "There you go. Cooper, Lila, you've got another one?"

"Here, Nat," Cooper answered and with Lila's help passed them another branch. "There are still four of them."

"Four are enough. If there are some gaps, we can fix them later."

Clint eyed the fort more closely. "Why does it remind me of Sweden?"

"Because we build something similar back then. Only smaller. And colder. And this time I will fixate the tarpaulin, because your kids don't have to sit on wet ground like we did."

"True enough," Clint answered with a grin. With a hushed voice he continued. "You know, sometimes I miss the times of S.H.I.E.L.D. How often did Coulson curse just because we didn't act according to plan? Really miss that guy. But I wouldn't want to trade in my life here, not for ever. Laura's always been so worried when we went on a mission, I can't do that to her anymore."

"Clint." Natasha turned around with a serious expression. "You don't have to explain it to me. You have built… your own Garden Eden out here. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s gone and Phil's gone… Things changed. But if you miss the other guys so much, you could drop in in HQ sometimes. Stark insisted on including an apartment for you and even if he didn't you could crash on my sofa. I'm glad you have this life out here; how many former agents or Avengers can say that much? Without that I would never have been Auntie Nat. So skip the long face and hold this branch a little more to the left, will you?"

"Aye, Ma'am," Clint agreed, nudging Natasha playfully with his shoulder.

Half an hour later, Cooper made the last knot to secure the tarpaulin over the wooden tent. "Done!" he yelled and Lila scrambled inside. "It's so big!"

"Here, take this." Clint handed her an electric torch, a firm string attached to its end. "If you sling the string around the branch and tie it down really hard, you even have a lamp inside there."

Lila did as instructed and smiled at her dad. "Like this?"

"Just like this. Good job."

"When the other Avengers come visit again, they could sleep here, couldn't they?" Lila asked with big eyes like she was already planning on who to exile into the woods.

Clint stifled a laughter. "Yeah, sure. Auntie Nat and Bruce could share the fort, don't you think?"

Just as Natasha was about to press her elbow into Clint's stomach, Cooper piped up. "No, Aunt Nat has a room in the house. That's _her_ room, so she sleeps there."

"That's my boy." Natasha pulled Cooper into an embrace and ruffled his hair. "I think Stark would _love_ to sleep here… he's a real nature guy, you know?"

"Can we eat our sandwiches in here?" Lila asked, already sitting on the dry forest floor inside the fort.

"Sure thing. But you have to make room for us," Natasha said. "What do you think, is your dad allowed in here? Or does he have to eat outside?"

Both Cooper and Lila contemplated their father for a moment before they started to whisper. Then, finally, Copper announced: "He's allowed, but just today."

"Yeah, a real Garden Eden, Nat," Clint muttered under his breath.


	8. Innocence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meet Natasha's first friend in the Red Room and how she betrayed her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CN: mentions on animal cruelty, animal death
> 
> Characters: Natasha, Madame B., Sezja, Akela

„These dogs will be your dogs," Madame B. announced sternly while two man handed out the pups. "You will train them in between your own trainings. You will feed them with your own meals. You will make sure they obey you or you will be facing the punishment. Any dog who attacks a recruit, will be put out as well as the recruit who was not able to fend off the dog. Do you all understand?"

"Yes, Madame," the girls answered in unison and the adults left the dormitory.

Seven-year-old Natalia looked at the pup on her bed in awe. "I'm gonna call you Sezja. You okay with that?"

The pup cocked his head to a side as if it had understood her and was now thinking about it. Finally, it made some steps towards her to sniff on her hand. Its fur was a dark grey which made a stark contrast to the white chest and belly.

"I'm Natalia," she introduced herself to the pup. "We're going to be friends, alright? I don't have many friends. Only Arina, to be honest. You'll meet her, she's nice." Carefully she started to stroke the dog's fur. "I like you. You like me, too, Sezja?"

Sezja stepped on Natalia's lap and curled against her with a little yawn.

Natalia smiled. "I'll take that as a yes."

~#~#~#~#~#~

Sezja whimpered underneath her as the thunder growled outside. At the first sign of a nightly storm, the lanky dog had hidden under Natalia's bed; something that hadn't changed in the nine months since she had been given to the girl. Natalia soon discovered that no talking and luring would help until the storm had passed. Since she didn't want to leave Sezja alone in her fear, she crawled to the outer rim of her bed to be able to stroke her fur with the hand that wasn't cuffed to the bedpost. Those were neither comfortable nor warm nights, but Natalia accepted it without complaining.

"It's going to be over soon," she whispered as to not wake the other girls. "A long time ago, people thought it were gods who caused the thunder and lightning. Can you believe that? Gods who were angry or partying or whatever. Almost every mythology had such a god. With the Greeks it was Zeus and Jupiter with the Romans. Although the two were basically one and the same person. Then there was Baal in Syria, Indra in India and Taranis with the Celts. Oh, and the Germanic people had Donar or Thor. The Nordic mythology then borrowed Thor, although I'm not sure if he was first with the Germanic people or the Nordic ones."

Natalia kept quiet for a while and listened for the storm outside. She wasn't afraid of the thunder. Before Sezja, she didn't even know that one could be afraid of a storm. Just charged molecules unloading which caused lightning and sound effects. Not some sort of god who was out for revenge.

"I promise you, Sezja, nothing will happen to you. Alright? We're safe inside. I would tell you to just come in my bed but firstly, you won't come out from under there, and secondly, Madame B. would find out anyway and you would be in trouble for it. I don't know how she does it, but she seems to know _everything_. It's like she can read my mind sometimes. You remember the one time she caught us practicing this one trick where you roll over? She was furious. Well, we got better at hiding such stuff, didn't we? And as long as you're having fun with such things, we shouldn't stop."

Natalia stroked Sezja between the ears. The fur there was even softer than that on her chest and she liked the way it felt between her fingertips. "You know… I never saw one of the older girls with a dog, now that I think of it. Maybe we're the first to have one. I already talked with Arina about that and we're both not sure. I mean, why should they suddenly allow us to keep pets? You already experienced Madame B.; she's not the nicest person to know." The girl kept quiet for a moment, then she shrugged her shoulders. "Well, we should enjoy it while it lasts, right?"

~#~#~#~#~#~

Natalia sat on her bed after a training session, patching up her wounds. Sezja sat beside her on the floor, her head pressed against her thigh and emitting low whimpering sounds from time to time.

"I'm fine, Sez. Really," Natalia sighed and gritted her teeth when the cloth drenched with alcohol touched the cut on her shoulder. "I was just distracted, you know. Was the first time I fought five of the others at the same time and I didn't hit Daria hard enough so she got back up. I still won, though." She put the cloth aside and picked up a needle and thread. "The others can't even patch themselves up. I'm getting better day by day, you know? Madame B. said, it'll be only some years more, then I could graduate. I could get real missions then! If Arina and I were assigned to one together, I'd protect her. She's my best friend aside from you and I guess I can't take you with me on missions. Maybe Arina would look after you when she can't come with me." Natalia talked through sewing the wound up as to distract herself.

Then, finally, she made a knot and put the needle aside. Sezja nudged her bloody hand to get her to stroke her, but Natalia pulled her hand away. "Let me first clean myself up, alright? I don't want to get you all bloody and stuff." She left the dormitory and went to the bathroom with the row of sinks, where the girls got ready in the morning in the sequence of their rank within their age group. Natalia always was one of the firsts.

When she returned to the dormitory, Sezja already waited for her behind the door, pressing herself against her leg once Natalia entered. With a smile the girl looked down at the dog and twitched at her ear. "You're really worried about me, huh? It's not the first time I got hurt in training and it won't be the last time. But I'll be careful, alright? Just have to be faster than the others."

~#~#~#~#~#~

Natalia looked blankly at Madame B., her face a stony mask. The words just spoken played at an infinite loop inside her head. Sezja who had dozed at her feet until a few moments ago now sensed her struggling and sat beside her, gently nudging her hand as if to remind her that she was there and would help her.

All the training of the Red Room concerning her emotions almost had been for naught. Natalia had to work hard to not let the tears flow over her cheeks. She ought against the knot in her throat, felt the nausea coiling inside her stomach. Somehow she had known all along that it wouldn't be for ever. Natalia just hadn't anticipated to see it end so soon. She wanted to protest, wanted to refuse, but she knew the same moment that it would be to no use. She would die fighting for the love and trust of an animal.

"Do it now, Natalia. You may choose between the knife and the bullet, but don't hesitate. I neither want to see your hand shaking nor any emotion on your face, do you understand. Not even in your eyes. Remember the lessons we taught you," Madame B. instructed her. "You are one of our most promising recruits. Don't screw it up."

Natalia drew the knife from the sheath stripped to her thigh and turned towards Sezja without looking at her. She knew where she had to place the cut to make it quick and as painless as possible. Still, she knew it would hurt both Sezja and her. She loved the dog. For almost three years they had been partners, friends. She loved this ball of fur and its fear of thunderstorms, its solicitude when she was hurt. Sezja looked out for her and they had shared every meal. But she couldn't fight Madame B.; that was the first lesson she had learned in the Red Room.

Natalia braced her heart and kept her face in a blank expression, reminded herself that she could turn her heart into stone if she only wanted it. And right now, she needed it. Her hand was swift and she moved fast enough to avoid her clothes getting stained. Her whole body felt numb when she stood up again and faced her instructor.

"Do you know the aim of this lesson?" Madame B. asked, ignoring the limb dog at her feet.

Natalia only looked at her, holding tight to her stony heart. She was afraid that if she thought for one moment about what she had just done, she might break.

"Love is for children, Natalia. It is a weakness only existent to jeopardize your missions. Don't let it get in your way. No man, no woman and no animal is it worth to endanger your mission. Do you understand? Love is for children and you are no child anymore."

"Love is for children," Natalia repeated emotionless, feeling the stony heart to become a fixed part of her. Her hand felt wet and then suddenly, here face felt wet, too. She wasn't supposed to cry. Madame B. would whip her for crying for a dog.

A single bark woke Natasha. Akela stood right beside her bed, looking intensely at her. He must have tried to wake her by licking her hands and face for they still felt wet. It still took Natasha a few more moments to shake off the nightmare. She rolled over before remembering, that the space beside her on the bed would be empty. Steve was on a mission and wouldn't be back before the next afternoon. She turned back to Akela who still met her gaze expectantly, just as if he wanted to make sure she was alright.

"It was just a dream, Akela. I'm sorry if I've woken you. Or scared you," she murmured softly and extended a hand to pet his head.

Akela whimpered softly and stepped even closer to the bed, yawning once. He seemed genuinely worried and the look alone made Natasha's heart ache once more. Just like Sezja.

Natasha lifted her blanket. "Come here. Steve doesn't have to know, does he?" She needed the warmth of a living body beside her. Since Steve wasn't there to comfort her, she figured Akela wouldn't object to step in for the night. And she was right. The dog jumped onto the bed and cuddled against her, his head on the pillow. He seemed more than content. Natasha smiled and laid one arm around him. "I promise you, I'll never let you down. You're family, so I'll fight for you if I have to."

Akela didn't seem to have heard her, since his soft snoring filled the dark room.


	9. Drive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post-Thanos fluff as it should have happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Natasha, Avengers, Guardians (a bit of Brutasha, if you squint)

The Avengers were one team again. Thanos was defeated. Earth and the whole galaxy were save again. All in all, reason enough for Tony to throw a party. Now Avengers were mingling with Guardians of the Galaxy and friends who survived the destruction. They hadn't been able to save everyone but neither of them had hoped as much.

Natasha was again at her favourite position behind the bar, mixing drinks for everyone who was brave or dumb enough to ask for it. "Here you go." She pushed a glass towards Maria Hill who wrinkled her nose. "You trying to poison me?"

Natasha looked offended. "And ruin perfectly good vodka? Nah. Believe it or not, I'm not in the mood of poisoning someone today."

"Guess I gotta trust you on that, Romanoff." Hill winked at her and took a sip from the colourful drink before raising her eyebrows appreciatively. "Not bad. Thanks."

"You're welcome." Natasha's gaze swept over her team mates, most of them on the dance floor. And Star Lord in the thick of it. She smiled involuntarily. It was sweet to see how overwhelmed he was by learning how technology – and music – had changed during his time in outer space. A huffing alien brought her focus back to the bar. Drax had been sitting there since the party started and never once moved up to dance or even tapped his foot. Strange being.

Just when Natasha opened her mouth to ask what his problem was – they _had_ defeated Thanos after all – Gamora shook her head. "Don't ask. It's about his theory."

"I'm the bartender. Or I pretend to be. I'm supposed to ask." Natasha shrugged. "Humour me."

Drax gave her a long look. "There are two kinds of people: those who dance and those who don't. Peter Quill is a dancer. He is pathetic and weak and no fighter. Groot is too. I am no dancer. I am a fighter. I am strong of mind and body. You strike me like no dancer, too."

Natasha smiled. "Is that so? How comes?"

"I saw you fighting. You simply cannot be a dancer the way you fight."

"Sorry to disappoint, Drax, but I wouldn't fight like that if I hadn't danced for some years."

Drax blinked in surprise. "You are deceiving me."

"No, I fear not. I danced ballet for a very long time. Helps with fighting and that's why I've learned it."

"So you _are_ a fighter," Drax tried to apply his theory. "You dance to fight so it is not enjoyment. Is it?"

Natasha was silent for a moment. "There was a time when I hated it. When I simply couldn't enjoy it because I knew _why_ I was so good at it. But then… Suddenly it's relaxing again. It's a part of my past, something that made me the way I am today. I cannot change that. And there is nothing wrong with enjoying music." She threw Drax a smile; it was unnerving how much she could relate to him. "You can be a warrior and enjoy music. To dance makes you nothing less of a fighter." She mixed herself another drink and stepped forward from the bar. "Enjoy the party, Drax." Her gaze swept through the room. Tony and Rocket were discussing mechanics in some corner; the former using more than necessary sweeping gestures while the latter often looked as if he wanted to bite Tony. Seemed like they got along. Peter Quill was still dancing on the dance floor he hadn't left once since they started the music. And Groot, the strange walking, talking tree was having an elaborate discussion with Friday. Natasha thought it interesting how Rocket – and obviously Friday, too – managed to keep a conversation going with Groot while his only answer consisted of stating his name.

"Still observing the new ones?" a familiar voice pulled her out of her observation.

Natasha turned around to meet Bruce's gaze and shrugged. "You can't hold it against me to be slightly curious, can you?"

"Slightly?" He chuckled. It was a light, honest chuckle. "I'm surprised you're not bombarding them with questions yet."

"Maybe later," Natasha answered, returning his smile. "Besides, I already got Quill's lecture on the collapse of good taste in music after he heard some stuff from the nineties. I hope no one's going to show him Justin Bieber; poor guy might just collapse."

"Oh, I bet Tony already has a playlist ready," Bruce admitted with a sigh. "I heard Rocket asking whether we call ourselves now Guardians of the Galaxy, too. With having also saved the galaxy. I think he was afraid it'll dump the prices when there were two teams with that name."

"Sounds just like Rocket." Natasha shook her head in amusement. "I'd suggest we'd stick just with Avengers and leave the Guardians their title. But that's for the leaders to decide." After their fallout leading to a civil war between Avengers, Steve and Tony had decided to lead the team together. Natasha was more than happy to step down from being second in command; she had no qualms beating all their asses in shape during training but she simple wasn't fit for leading. And she never wanted to.

They were quiet for a moment, listening to the music and watching the people they had saved the earth with until Bruce spoke up again. "Thanks again for not beating the crap out of me in Wales," he mentioned. "I know I would have deserved it. And the Other Guy, too."

"I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't have wanted to do just that. But it seemed like you had been beaten up enough so I let it be. If you still think you deserve it I could catch up on that," She offered with a smirk.

Bruce laughed softly. "I bet the Other Guy would enjoy that." He was quiet for a few seconds. "He missed you, you know? He was relieved to see that you were alright. And other than me your new hair style didn't deceive him for a second."

Natasha shrugged again. "It was enough to deceive Ross's guys. And I missed the Big Guy, too. I missed the team, to be honest. Wouldn't have thought our two alphas got at one table once more."

"Are you planning on changing it back?" Bruce asked with a tone so innocent that Natasha had to smile. He wasn't exactly subtle.

"Why, you're not liking it?"

"I didn't say that. It's just… I liked your red hair."

Natasha knew that if she turned around just now she would see Bruce's cheeks tinted pink. "I think I'm keeping it for a while. Still don't know how long I stay. If at all."

"Well, I… I hope you're staying for some time. I still have some making up to do."

"Oh, do you? And how are you planning on doing that?" Her playful tone took away any edge of her words.

"Well, I haven't decided on that yet," Bruce admitted, running a hand through his hair.

Natasha smirked. "Then let me know when you've come up with something," she said, kissed him lightly on the cheek and turned around. She didn't get far, though, when Steve pulled her gently aside.

"Guy's already completely flustered again," he noted, his tone amused as well as chiding. "What did you do to him this time?"

"Me? For once, I didn't do anything," Natasha answered and rolled her eyes good-naturedly.

"Why can't I believe that?"

"What's up, Rogers? Thor gave you too much from his Asgardian mead?"

"I'm just as drunk as you are," he said dryly, referencing to her own pretty high tolerance. "Just as someone who knows some stuff: don't be too hard on him."

"Are you sporting this beard because Sharon doesn't like it or because you think it makes you look older, grandpa?"

"Just promise to stay long enough so he gets his chance on making it up to you. He made you happy. I'd like to see you like that again, now that we're all save again."

Natasha rolled her eyes at him. "Will you let me throw more women at you?"

"Not any time soon," Steve answered with a chuckle.

"I'll see what I can do."


	10. Breathe Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a sugary sweet reunion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Natasha/Bruce

She hadn't missed the hot, humid weather. Not for a second. She could feel the sweat trickling down her back and it wasn't the first time she asked herself why she was doing this. It had been over five months now that the so-called Civil War had ripped the Avengers, her _friends_ , apart. Five months she had spent on the run while looking for him, never staying at one place too long just in case Ross was still at her heels.

And then, one day, Fury had appeared in front of her Londoner apartment and handed her a file containing barely two sheets of paper. "If I'd wanted to kick the big guy's ass, that's where I'd looking for him", he'd said, but what he meant was something different. He didn't ask her about the fight on the airport and he didn't ask why she switched sides in the midst of said battle. Natasha knew that Fury was worried about her. And not only about her, but also the rest of the Avengers. After Steve and her had brought Hydra down (and S.H.I.E.L.D. with it), Fury had been overprotective of his remaining protégés. Just as herself he hoped that the team could get back together. The whole team. But she knew he thought it a stupid idea of hers to go and look for a guy who could turn into an angry monster. Fury knew she wouldn't just try to talk him into coming back to New York but also confront him with leaving after Sokovia. And he wasn't the only one, Natasha knew. But she had to go, dangerous and stupid or not.

And here she was. Kolkata. It seemed ironic that she should find him here where she first picked him up to help find the Tesseract. Natasha didn't assume that Bruce lived in the same hut as before. That would just be too easy. And she was right. Some well-directed questions later she knew what she had to know. Apparently a certain Dr Robert Green had settled down some months ago, living in the west of the city near the border. At least he got humour. Natasha decided to wait there for him; it was pointless looking for him in this gigantic city, should he have any patients to look after right now.

It was almost five p.m. when she finally reached the little hut. Natasha sneaked around it once, looking and hearing for any signs that he was home. Nothing. To be honest, she wasn't surprised. The lock on his door took her barely five seconds to open it and she gently closed the door behind her. Natasha slipped the hood from her head and looked around. The hut consisted of one room, a bed behind a curtain in one corner. The kitchen was small, but clean and with a table and two chairs. A dresser stood near the bed, atop of it a collection of pictures. Getting curious Natasha walked over to take a closer look. A picture of an unknown woman, one of an older couple. One picture showed the Avengers; Natasha remembered the day of Thor's farewell party when the world seemed to be calm and without immediate danger. Back then, when they were still a team. It was a fun evening until Ultron showed up and everything went down. She put the picture neatly back on its place and turned to the last picture. It was one of her from the same evening, mixing a drink for Maria behind the bar and laughing. Although a smile crept on her face on the thought that Bruce had kept a picture of her, it also made her angry. If he'd missed her, then why hadn't he tried to contact her? Just to tell her that he was fine and would return once he was ready. It wasn't like she expected him to do anything out of the ordinary.

The sound of steps on the front door let her turn around, waiting for the resident of this little hut to step in. Quickly she put the picture back on the dresser and leaned against the furniture as if she hadn't one worry in the world.

Bruce didn't spot her immediately, but stepped out of his shoes and let his bag slide to the floor. It was only when he looked up that his eyes widened in surprise before showing resignation. "So you _did_ find me in the end," he simply stated and only now really looked at her. Took in her figure, her flowing red hair, her green eyes that almost always showed signs of amusement. Longing and regret joined the resignation in his gaze and he held up his hands slightly as in surrender.

"You didn't make it easy, Dr Green," Natasha answered with a shrug and emphasis on his new persona. "Nice nickname by the way. Took me some time and without Fury's help I'd never think of India. People seldom return to the place where they were found once."

"Exactly the reason why I came here. Can I offer you a drink before you drag me back to New York?"

"I won't drag you anywhere. I'm just here to talk." Natasha sat down at his table, legs crossed and eyes never leaving Bruce.

Bruce opened two water bottles and put one on the table before leaning against the kitchen counter as if he wanted to keep a safe distance. "I'm sorry," he finally managed to say. "I shouldn't have just left. And I don't want to blame the Other Guy for his decision because it was one I would have also made. But I'm sorry for leaving you behind."

"You should be." Natasha's voice still was calm, but anger and desperation slowly began to show. "You have no idea how mad I was at you and still am. What about our talk at the Barton's farm? About going away together? After we had defeated Ultron, I would have come with you. We could have come here if you'd liked to."

"I'm too dangerous to be constantly near you. I could have hurt you and I would have never forgiven me. If something happened to you and it would have been my fault…" Bruce broke off.

"I've made _friends_ with the Big Guy. He'd never hurt me, not more than you would. Just that you did. When you just left… I opened up to you. I thought we would fight our demons together. But then you were gone and I was left dealing alone with them. That's not fair, Bruce."

Bruce huffed. "Yeah, I'm sure our Captain let you deal all alone with it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Natasha didn't remember standing up, but she faced Bruce with her arms crossed.

"Rogers mentioned he saw you flirting up close. Guess he had no objections of me leaving."

Natasha simply stared at him. "Are you serious? Steve and I, we're friends. Teammates. Partners as long as S.H.I.E.L.D. was still up and going but nothing more. You're gonna tell me you're jealous of Steve?"

For the first time Bruce seemed to feel queasy. "Who wouldn't be? Look at that guy."

"Flirting is what kept me alive all those years. It's a part of me, I don't think about it. And sometimes it's fun to make Steve uncomfortable by just being flirty. You're adorable, really. But I'm still pissed at you."

"Pissed enough to through me down a well again?"

Natasha smiled. "Maybe." Then the smile vanished from her lips. "Here in the middle of nowhere… Did you hear what happened in Germany half a year ago?"

"If I say yes you'll probably be pissed again, so… No?" It sounded more like a question than anything else. Then Bruce sighed. "I haven't heard much, to be honest. Something about the Sokovia Accords, an explosion in Vienna and the fight on the airport. You know those people are building the airport for what? A decade?"

"It's cheaper to start it again than correct the mistakes made in the process. At least that's what Tony's said to calm down the government. I don't know if he paid for it, we haven't talked in a while."

"I didn't know which side to support when I heard of it. Really. I get it that Tony thinks we need to be supervised. After Ultron backfired so spectacularly there is no other solution. But I also get Roger's side. When Hydra managed to infiltrate S.H.I.E.L.D., why shouldn't at least part of the governments be also corrupt? I knew if I joined the fight it would be crucial, so my choice had to be justified. That I couldn't do." His shoulders hunched a little while admitting that.

Natasha softly shrugged her shoulders again. "Me neither. Rather, I cannot fight my friends. In training, yes, but not in earnest. I fought on Tony's side but when Steve wanted to bring Bucky away, I couldn't stop them. Instead I helped them. Clint gave me a second chance when he refused to kill me. Why shouldn't Bucky be offered the same chance? To wipe the blood from his hands?"

"So that's why you haven't spoken with Tony. You're on the run with Rogers's team?"

"No." Natasha shook her head. "I'm on the run by myself. It's not the first time. One gets used to it when it happens often enough. Aside from Fury I haven't spoken anyone of the team. If there is still a team left, that is."

"I'm glad you're not hurt," Bruce said after a little pause and stepped a little closer, but wary as if he was afraid to scare an animal. "I was worried about you though I left."

"I can take care of myself. Kicking ass since 1989 or something like that. But if you were worried, then why didn't you call? Or send a postcard for that matter?" She stepped closer to Bruce without touching him yet. "Just telling me you're alright."

Bruce tentatively raised his hand and gently stroked her cheek. "Guess I didn't want to be found. Maybe I thought that if I didn't contact you, you would get over it quicker. Maybe I didn't think at all."

"I'd go with the last explanation," Natasha said with her signature smirk and leant into his touch. "There was a lot to cope with, recently."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Bruce huffed and caressed her arm. "But since I discovered you over there I feel like I can breathe again, you know. Although I thought for a very long moment I'd be a patient tomorrow and not the doctor."

Her laugh sent shivers down his spine. "I was tempted to let you know just how pissed I was, trust me. But I know what you mean." Natasha stepped even closer, wrapped her arms around his torso and leaned her head against his shoulder. "I'm glad I found you, Bruce."

Her voice was muffled but he still heard it. Bruce cupped his arms carefully around her fragile frame and held her close. "Me too," he whispered. "You're staying for a while?" He didn't expect her to stay for ever. She just wasn't the kind of woman to settle down so suddenly. But he hoped to have some time with her to make things right before she went back. And maybe this time he would follow her.

Natasha freed herself only far enough to look at him. "For a while," she agreed finally and took a deep breath when leaning back in his embrace.


	11. Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He could've at least recognize her; and of course Tony noticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Natasha, Tony (and mentions of WinterWidow)

Natasha held still while one of the medics was checking her neck, her own eyes looking without seeing. Since after DC she'd known who he was and what part he'd played in forming her. It had hurt more than it should that he hadn't recognized her.

"I looked at the footage," Tony suddenly spoke up. He looked weird with the broken sunglasses and his black eye. "You didn't fight him. Barnes. He almost squeezed the life out of you and _you didn't fight back_. May I ask why? Is this some sort of assassin's code? Because if so, we really need to talk about priorities."

"There's no code," she answered still hoarsely and hopped from the desk to put her jacket back on when the medic released her.

"When you talked to him while he was force-choking you, what did you say? Were you trying to get through to him?"

"Tony…"

"Fine." Tony shrugged and pulled out his phone. "Friday, get me the feed. Work through it with the new lip-reading program and give us audio results."

"On it, Sir," a female Irish voice answered. Not even half a minute later, a voice that sounded distinctly like Natasha's own, said: _You could at least recognize me_.

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Now that's interesting. Shall I play it again?"

"That guy shot me twice already," Natasha answered irritated. "If I'm shooting someone twice and he's still alive, I would know his face."

"Stop bullshitting me! That's no reason to not fight back." Tony took a deep breath. "Look, it's been a long day. For all of us. But if you don't want Cap to know you're crushing on his childhood friend, then I won't tell him."

At that Natasha's head whipped around. "What's Steve got to do with that?"

"Please, I have like an implemented radar for sexual attraction. Have you _seen_ the puppy eyes he gives you?"

"He gives everyone the puppy eyes."

"No. To me he gives the father eyes. I'm just saying-"

"You're saying what?" Natasha's voice got dangerously low and even the medic that had stuck around out of curiosity found it a good time to leave and close the door rather loudly behind him.

Against all instinct, Tony's voice grew softer. "You look like you need a friend. I know you barely tolerate me, but Barton's not here right now. If you choose to tell me, I won't tell anyone."

"You can keep a secret?" Natasha raised an eyebrow but she didn't sound as hostile as before.

"I kept the fact that I was dying from everyone." Tony shrugged again.

"Except from me."

"Except from you." Though he wasn't as acquainted with her as Clint was, he knew well enough silence worked better with her then prodding. They weren't that different, after all.

"I know him from the… From back in Russia. He was one of my instructors. During SHIELD's fall had had the nagging feeling I knew him from more than just Odessa. So while Steve and Sam tried to find Barnes, I looked for intel about myself."

"Why didn't you remember him earlier?"

"Because they wiped me. Both of us, actually. It wasn't uncommon," she told him in a kind of detached voice. "Whenever one of their assets showed signs of humanity, they'd wipe their mind, turning them back into machines. When Clint found me, I was already freelancing for a while. Otherwise I'd have him killed without blinking."

"Why do you wanna keep it secret? What's wrong about you knowing each other?" Tony crossed his arms and leant against the wall. "It changes nothing, right? Spangles is still going to try and save him."

"No, for the moment it changes nothing at all. Whether that'll change once he remembers me, I don't know yet."

"How do you know he doesn't know you yet?"

Again it took Natasha some time to answer. "His eyes," she finally offered quietly. "I would have seen it in his eyes."

Tony eyed her closely for a moment. "He _was_ more than just your instructor, right?"

"That obvious, huh?"

"Not for people that don't know you. But like it or not, we spent some time together by now." Tony shrugged. "And for protocol, I'm not judging you."

"How comes?"

"What _is_ there to judge, Natasha? You love – or loved, anyways – a guy who you got close to back in the day. Maybe he's still one of the bad guys, maybe not. Maybe you still love him, maybe not. It happens."

Natasha shook her head and refused to look him in the eye. "It's not as easy as that."

"It's never easy."

"I fear I could be compromised because of what was back then. I fear it clouds my judgement." When she now met Tony's gaze, her eyes were fiery. "But I can't let him hurt any of you."

"Aww, stop it, Red, or I might get the impression you care for me," Tony remarked and winked at her.

Against her will, Natasha smiled. "I already told you you were right; how can I possibly boost your ego more?"

"Alright, as flattering as that is, don't evade. Were you two really as close as that it might be a problem now?"

"Why? You're not believing I could have been able to fall in love?"

"Oh, no, nuh-uh." Tony held his hands up as to stop her physically. "You're not starting a fight so you don't have to answer the question." His gaze grew just a fraction softer. "You know, we're a team. For a long time now, actually. We're even family. You can tell me without having to fear I'll laugh at you or tell anyone. I'm your friend. Or at least I hope I am. Plus, I'm scared shitless of you, so do you really think I'd kiss and tell? Please, give me some credit. I'm not _that_ suicidal."

"You're not?" Natasha smiled half-heartedly and took a seat on the table. "I grew up with stories of the infamous Winter Soldier. When he was supposed to train me, it was an honour you can't possibly imagine. He should prep me for my own assignments, so I accompanied him on several of his own and- well, slowly, we fell in love. He took care of me; something no one has ever done for me before. He treated me like I was more than a killing machine. He called me _doll_ when it was just the two of us, but he couldn't explain where the nickname came from. And when I was taught seduction, I practiced on him. We even made a bet out of it." She smiled in remembrance. "He almost always lost. No matter what, I felt _alive_ with him."

"Sounds good."

"Too good to be true." Natasha sighed. "We… we wanted to run away. Together. Start a life somewhere we could whoever we wanted to be. Do whatever we wanted. _Feel_ whatever we wanted. But well, of course the KGB somehow got wind of us. They caught us the night we wanted to run." When Natasha fell silent this time, Tony didn't speak up. Finally, after a long time, she continued. "They tortured him and made me watch. Then the other way around, all night. If we hadn't been that good, they would have killed us. But they wiped us instead and so all that was left was a feeling of emptiness and anger I couldn't explain. And the memory of blue eyes with a fleeting thought that there had to be a different life from the one I had been leading."

"Maybe we can get him back. Maybe he'll remember you."

"Yes," Natasha said quietly, a sad smile curving her lips. "Maybe."


	12. Insanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of a long friendship of assassins/spies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Natasha, Clint, Laura, Baby Cooper

„To where are you bringing me?" Natalia demanded to know, arms crossed in front of her chest while she sat on the passenger seat of a small jet that barely had enough room to stand upright. "Is your HQ that much in the middle of nowhere? If I had known what I gotten myself into-"

"You wanted to run, I helped you to," Clint cut her off. "I won't take you to HQ, not yet. I have to make some calls first."

"So your boss doesn't know that you didn't kill your target but rather bring it along? You know, the KGB would murder you in return." A smug smile showed itself on her lips and she stretched her arms.

"What're you doing?" Clint glanced at her suspiciously and outstretched one hand to hold her left hand.

Natalia sighed. "Relax, Falconman, I'm not gonna kill you if you don't kill me."

"It's Hawkeye, not Falconman," Clint corrected miffed. "And I could still kill you if you're acting like the moody teenager you probably still are."

"Not a teenager anymore, thank you very much." Natalia observed the landscape that was rushing below them. Not many cities, more fields and forests. To where in the hell was he bringing her? Or was all that talk of her skillset being useful to his agency just nonsense and he still wanted to kill her? It wasn't like she wanted to trust Barton; she rather had to when she wanted to survive. And to survive had been imprinted in her brain since childhood. Even so the fact that one shouldn't ask too much questions but Natalia ignored the last bit. "Where are we flying to?" she asked again after some time of strained silence.

Clint gave her a quick look. "To a safehouse. There you can stay until I talked to Fury. It might be a long call, now that I think about it."

"Why did you do this?" Natalia blurted out. Although her expression remained calm and unimpressed, she felt the urgent need to pace around. Impossible on board of this jet. "You owe me nothing and you're just about to test how much you're boss really needs you so that what? That I can leave Russia? That your agency can recruit another assassin to do their dirty work? Don't think I wouldn't know what for your agency would need me."

"Okay, let's get some things straight, shall we?" Clint jammed in the brake so resolutely that Natalia was pushed into her safety belts. "No, I owe you nothing at all. All I know from you is what we have in the file with your name on it and what I could gather from observing you during the last days. S.H.I.E.L.D. hasn't exactly a shortage of agents but your skillset is exceptional and you said you wanted to do some good for a change. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s not the KGB; we want to avoid chaos and protect people. If you think you can do this, fine, shut up until we're there. If not, I can throw you out of this bird right now without a parachute and solve both our problems, alright?"

"But what made you pull your punches in the first place?" Natalia had never been known for one to let a topic go easily.

Clint chuckled without humour. "Pull my punches? Are you serious?" He sighed and finally activated the boost again. "I don't know, alright? I just recently discovered fatherly feelings and you kinda seemed in need of them though you sure had a fair chance killing me. No offense."

His answer surprised Natalia. She could have thought of a thousand different explanations, but this… Maybe she could let her guard down. At least for a while. She hadn't had a decent sleep in a week. And before she knew it, she had dosed off.

~#~#~#~#~#~

"Wake up, little spider." Clint's voice was soft while he gently shook her. Natalia was awake within the second and he lifted his hands as to show her he wasn't a danger. "By the way, how shall I call you? Black Widow? Widow? Redhead? The choice is yours."

Natalia contemplated his question for a moment before looking him straight in the eyes. "Natalia. My name is Natalia."

"Natalia, huh? Maybe you'd need a cover when working for S.H.I.E.L.D. Something more English-sounding, you know? What do you think of Natasha?"

"Why not? Didn't bear this name before." Natalia followed him out of the jet that he had landed in front of a farmhouse. The roof of a barn was barely visible and a porch ran around the farmhouse with a rocking chair standing in one corner.

Clint led her towards the door and opened it; it hadn't been locked. "Honey?" he called inwards. "I'm back."

A brunette woman with a baby that was only a few months old on her arm appeared and greeted him with a kiss. Only then she noticed Natalia. "Clint?"

"Er, yes, sorry. Laura, this is Natasha. Natasha, meet Laura, my wife, and Cooper, my son."

Laura grabbed his arm and pulled him aside. "You bring your mission home? What were you thinking, Clint? You have a little child, it's not just a thing between you and me anymore."

Natalia was barely listening. Her gaze was held by the little boy who looked at her with his head slightly cocked and the corner of a wing of his cuddly hawk in his mouth. He looked at her with curiosity, no sign of fear or terror. Somehow this irritated Natalia more than Clint's words earlier.

Clint and Laura seemed to have ended their dispute for now; Natalia felt almost sorry for the husband. "Follow me upstairs, you can stay in the guestroom until Clint can bring you to Fury," Laura ordered and Natalia followed silently. "Here. Sheets and linen are in the small cabinet there and I can get you some clean clothing if you want to shower. Just give me a minute."

Natalia nodded and had barely time to open her mouth to thank Laura for being able to stay (she doubted that the jet was that comfortable for spending the night in), but the other woman had already turned around. The spy entered the little, comforting looking room and opened the cabinet to take out the bedding. The steps of Laura warned her of her coming back.

"I don't want to make any problems. I never asked Barton to-"

"I know." Laura smiled at her wearily while handing her some clothes and towels. "That's just Clint. If he was here more often, he'll probably bring in all kinds of hurt animals. He's just not able walking by someone needing help. And if he'd think you'd be a danger he wouldn't have brought you here, so… If you need something, tell me. Just not in the middle of the night, Cooper already does that."

The little boy babbled as if he knew exactly he was meant, playing with his stuffed animal and shaking it until it fell to the floor.

Natalia picked it up and gave it back to him before he could start to cry. "Here, Cooper. You should hold it tight, you know?"

Cooper looked at her and took the hawk from her hands. He eyed it for a moment, then handed it to Natalia. Not knowing how she should react, she looked to Laura. The mother simply shrugged. "He seems to like you well enough. Normally he doesn't like it if someone else got his toy." She seemed to mull something over in her head. "You want to hold him for a moment?"

Natalia responded to this quite simple question with a startled look. She wasn't often surprised. "I don't know how," she finally managed to get out. _Insane_ , she thought dumbfounded. _This whole family is just insane. Who in the hell offers an assassin to hold a baby?_

"Just like this. Only watch his neck," Laura said while placing the baby carefully into Natalia's hands before stepping back a little.

Natalia just stood there and didn't move to not startle the baby. Cooper seemed relaxed with the strange woman, reaching with one hand for her red hair; something he hadn't seen before. "Hey, little boy. You're a curious one, aren't you?" she whispered and for the fraction of a second a genuine smile played her lips. Somehow she knew that if S.H.I.E.L.D. would be able to pry her lose from the KGB's grip, she would do everything to repay Clint. Starting with protecting the little bundle in her arms.


	13. Abuse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers learn about Natasha's past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CN: mentions of injuries, past abuse
> 
> Characters: Natasha, Clint, Steve, Tony, Bruce

"Agent Romanoff, why don't we use your time waiting for Agent Barton to be cleared and take a look at your wounds as well?" one of the nurses asked now a bit more persistently. Maybe Natasha bleeding on her previous immaculate floor bothered her. The Avengers had come back to the Tower after a rather long and nasty mission to get themselves patched up and rest before they were facing Fury for a debrief. Steve was working on scheduling the meeting for the next day, arguing they all needed a good night's sleep before they were usable for anything, but so far Fury didn't want to hear anything of it. All of the members had complied to endure medical treatment sooner or later, even Clint; all but Natasha who refused steadfastly to let any of the nurses too near. Soot, grime and blood still matted her hair and painted a rather grim looking pattern on her skin and the catsuit she still wore.

"No," she therefore refused flatly, venom almost dripping from her voice. The nurse went away but not without huffing and muttering something about bull-headed assassins.

Clint rolled his eyes while another nurse cleaned the cuts that littered his face. "You _know_ they'll make Fury or Hill come down here to make you sit still, don't you?" he argued wearily. "So, why piss in their breakfast if it only gets you more paperwork?"

"Language," Steve said, whose wounds were almost healed again and who looked strangely domestic in SI issued sweats and shirt. "But yes, Clint is right. You should let someone look at your wounds. That one blast must have at least given you a bruised rib." He held his hands up in a pacifying gesture. "I know you can take care of those sufficiently yourself but you would make work a lot easier for everyone involved if you just followed protocol."

Natasha turned around and raised an eyebrow. "Are you honestly pulling your Captain Card on me?"

"You shouldn't have done that." Tony shook his head and stopped instantly when he got reminded why that isn't such a good idea with a concussion. "Really, Cap, you should _not_ have done that."

"What do you mean?"

"You just don't tell Natashalie over here what to do," Tony explained as if he were talking to an idiotic child. "Even I know that. Only Fury and Hill are allowed to. And Barton. But they are shagging either way. And Pepper." He frowned, then turned to Natasha. "Once Pep was running the show, did you assist her in more ways than one? Just asking."

Natasha pushed him nearly off the chair with her foot. "Insecure? Or just desperate?"

"Horny?" Clint supplied helpfully and grinned at Tony, who in turn glared at him. "None of your business, bird brain."

"Back to the topic at hand," Steve intervened. "Take a seat there, Romanoff, and let someone take care of your wounds. You owe me for that mission in Paris, remember?"

Natasha glared in his direction, but complied. "And you're wasting that on something like this? You really are in the wrong business, Cap." Slowly she pulled down the zipper of her suit, all the while maintaining eye contact to him.

Steve turned an even darker shade of red and Clint rolled his eyes again. "Leave the poor man alone, Nat."

The nurse finished him off with a last band-aid and then turned to Natasha. "You wanna shower first? I don't think you'd want that dirt in your wounds."

"Sure," Natasha sighed, accepted the sweats and moved to the other end of the room. Ten minutes later she re-emerged, the now clean, still wet hair clinging to her shoulders and her skin still slightly red from the hot water and the scrubbing. "You're still here? I thought you'd already gone to another dingy take-out place."

"You're not hungry?" Bruce asked, one eyebrow raised.

Natasha gave him one of her famous one-shouldered shrugs. "Starving." Without further comment she sat down again and let the nurse prod her. Normally she'd do it herself or let Clint help her; she couldn't count how often they patched each other up again. But since Steve insisted… Well, she would play by his rules one time only to repay him by their next sparring match. A smile flitted over her features. She couldn't wait for it.

"Holy shit!"

The exclamation, accompanied from several gasps, had her looking up. "What's wrong?" She looked down her body but couldn't detect anything that justified such a reaction. Yes, sure, there were bruises and cuts and one or two bullet wounds, but seriously?

"Natasha, what…?" Steve couldn't end that sentence and made a move as if he wanted to touch the skin on her back but then thought better of it. "What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" She craned her neck to get a better look but was unable to see any serious wounds.

"He means your back," Bruce explained quietly, his hands shaking. He'd probably turn green if he hadn't been that exhausted.

"The scars," Clint said by way of explaining when she still didn't get it.

"Oh." Natasha shrugged as well as she was able to with a nurse fussing over her. "Never claimed to get out of a job unharmed, boys."

Bruce moved to take a closer look without invading her space, his finger tracing one of the finer, longer ones without actually touching her back. "There are some that look very old. And not like the ones from knife or bullet wounds."

Natasha sighed and laid her head back, closing her eyes. "You've read my file. You know where they come from."

"I didn't," Steve piped up, quiet, his voice serious.

"What?"

"Me neither." Bruce shrugged.

All of them looked at Tony, who folded his hands at the back of his head and leant back in his chair. "You know I googled you. Well, Fake You, but still. So I might have taken a peek but I've only read the first page. Boy scout's honour!"

Natasha stared at them exasperatedly. "You've _got_ to be kidding me! I mean, come on. You _know_ I've read all of your files so why not do it?"

"Because you obviously had something to hide," Steve explained, his voice eerily calm and reassuring, just as if he didn't want to scare her away. "Which is fine, by the way. But I guess we were all waiting for you getting ready to tell us. Because we're teammates. And friends."

Natasha felt Clint's hand squeezing her shoulder comfortingly. "I grew up in Russia," she finally said, focusing her attention on the feeling of Clint's hand. "The KGB had a program called the Red Room. Once it was used to train assets to be able to take down Captain America. After you vanished, the program wasn't shut down, however. We were twenty-four girls. Only I survived. I can't remember a life before; I don't think I had a childhood. Not the way you did, anyway. I spent mine learning how to kill and how to survive. How to seduce when I got older. How to retrieve information and how to fit in. How to create a persona. My mind was wiped multiple times when I didn't comply and I don't know which of my memories are forged and which are real. I learned to dance ballet and to use my body as weapon; in every way possible." Natasha fell silent and shrugged, but it failed to transpire the usual confidence. "And then this idiot came around and helped me defecting." She looked up at him and managed a soft smile. "I'd be dead if Fury hadn't sent you after me. And if he'd sent someone else entirely." Clint only smiled and squeezed her shoulder in response and Natasha turned back to the rest of the team. "That's all you need to know for now. And that's all I'm ready to tell."

The room fell quiet. Finally, Tony cleared his throat. "Okay, to clear the mushy air out of here… What the hell happened in Paris? I want _all_ the juicy details."

* * *


	14. Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha and Bucky spend some fluff quality time before Bucky works on becoming a part of the team with her help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Natasha/Bucky

It was one of those quiet evenings in HQ. Well, not everywhere. Tony had decided to show Steve the perks of console gaming, so the common room was filled with cheers and groans by the players and too loudly given leads and tries to irritate one of them by those who watched. But after a day of dealing with rookies, Natasha had no nerves left to deal with the boys on their sugar high. Instead she had chosen the library as her go-to place, using her evening off to look at the collection of Russian novels Tony had bought for her lately.

She was in the middle of reading Tolstoi for the umpteenth time when the door opened silently and Bucky entered the room. Natasha only looked up for a moment to acknowledge him with a nod and a smile before focusing again on her book. Or at least pretended to do so. Actually, she was watching Bucky as he sat down close to her and started to clean his guns. A small smile played on her lips, her thoughts deep in the past. She had seen him often like this when she was still a girl. How his hands moved swiftly to take the weapons apart and put them back together without hesitation.

"You know I know you're staring, right?" he asked without looking at her.

Natasha shrugged. "Just wondering how you can see anything at all when your hair's that long."

Bucky actually looked up at that, his eyes thoughtful. "Well… Guess I just don't notice it anymore. I run around like this for some time now."

"Yeah, I know." Natasha now put her book aside to lean comfortably in her chair and watch Bucky openly. "And I get that longer hair is quite practical in the Siberian winter, but in New York it usually doesn't get that cold. Ever thought about a haircut?"

"Hey, it did me something good when I got put back in cryo sleep in Wakanda," Bucky defended himself with a pout. He looked down the barrel, then put the weapon and the cloth aside. "Since unlike Steve I have my experience with women, it sounds like you're suggesting I should get a haircut. Like, in the near future. Immediately."

"That's not what I meant," Natasha objected with a quiet chuckle. She leant over the arm of the chair to flip one of the strands of hair that constantly fell into Bucky's face.

Bucky caught her wrist and kissed the back of her hand. "Then what?" His question was as playful as was the sparkle in his eyes. "I trained you, there's literally nothing you can hide from me."

"Nothing, huh? You're sure?" Natasha leant further towards him, her trademark smirk playing on her lips when she kissed Bucky.

"Quite sure." He grinned at her. "And if you think you could distract me that easily, you're seriously mistaken, doll."

Natasha gave him a one shouldered shrug. "It was worth the try. I just thought you could do something different with your hair besides the shaggy Soviet soldier look."

"Then what would you suggest?" Bucky wasn't completely against the idea of cutting his hair; if he was honest, it sometimes annoyed the hell out of him. Especially in battle, when it constantly fell in his face.

"Dunno. Steve once took me to his exhibition to show me your pic. Well, actually he took me thrice. Let's just say the picture explained why you got all the girls back then."

"So my 40's hair then, huh? Yeah, what can I say, the gals liked it. That would be your choice for me?"

"I think it suited you. And retro is the new modern, so you'd probably rather start another trend than look awkward. Just think about it."

Bucky lowered his gaze for a moment. "I'd be all in but… I don't like strangers messing with me. I barely let Stark work on my arm and I know him for quite a while now."

"Well, it's Stark. I only trust him with my equipment because in four out of five he makes it more badass," Natasha answered with a smile, threading her fingers gently through Bucky's hair. "But if you don't want a stranger to cut your hair, I could do that. It won't look as good as done by a professional but I think I can manage."

"Is this another of your tests of how much I trust you?" Bucky raised one eyebrow, being all playful again. He thanked whoever was responsible for Nat being that understanding. Aside from Steve she seemed the only one to truly get why he had his difficulties with trusting most of the people he met. Of course she understood; she had felt that way too after she had abandoned the KGB. And he had helped forming her. A pang of regret let his smile falter.

Natasha caught on but didn't address it. "No test. Come on." She stood up, took his hand and gently pulled him from his chair and out of the library. Her touch was soft when she led him into her apartment, closed the door shut and went on into her bathroom. After entering it, she took the little stool she usually put her clothes on for the next day and placed it in front of the washbasin. "Sit there and lean back. I'll wash your hair first, makes the cutting easier."

"I think I'm able to wash my hair myself," Bucky interjected with half a smile.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Now, come on. I want to spoil you for once, so you probably should play along. Who knows when this opportunity will come again?"

"You're pretty good at subtle threats, you know?" Bucky sighed but didn't lose his smile. Instead he took a seat on the stool, his back towards the washbasin and leaned back until his neck rested on the rim. "You're not gonna use your girly shampoo, are you?"

"Is it the smell you don't like or its connection to me?" Natasha turned up the water and tested its temperature before soaking Bucky's hair, careful to not let any of it get into his eyes.

"People know we're not just friends. I just can't afford smelling like a strawberry field when Stark's around. He'll never let me live that down."

Natasha snorted not very ladylike. "That just shows how little attention you're paying. Don't worry, it doesn't smell overly girly. I'm a spy and assassin, remember? Shampoos with a strong scent make you recognizable. Would be a rookie's mistake." She squirted some of her favourite shampoo onto her palm and worked up a lather before she started massaging it in Bucky's scalp.

His eyes closed almost instantly. The sensation of Natasha's fingernails scraping gently over his scalp felt too good to not enjoy it. The worrying frowns on his forehead started to cease so that his face looked much younger.

Natasha smiled down at him. She liked seeing him carefree since she didn't get to see him like this very often. Carefully she rinsed his hair, again making sure that nothing got into his eyes. Having done that, she turned the water off and wrapped a towel around Bucky's head. "Dry it a bit while I'm looking for the scissors."

"What about that bit of you spoiling me?"

"Don't push your luck, Barnes," Natasha retorted but there was no threat in her voice. She returned with a pair of hair shears and a comb and took the towel from Bucky's hands. She started combing through his wet hair and asked in a way as if his answer wouldn't even matter: "Why didn't you join the boys for their gaming session? Even Steve tries to master this part of the twenty-first century. Though I'm pretty sure he gets his ass kicked."

"Didn't want to intrude." Bucky shrugged. Truth was, he wasn't comfortable with spending his time in a big group. Everyone was nice to him, trying hard to forget or at least forgive what he had done, but Bucky rather didn't want to put them through the trouble.

"Felt the same when Clint brought me into SHIELD," Natasha recounted. "It wasn't an easy start as a Soviet agent in an American organisation. Spent my time either with Clint or alone. Clint still had his solo missions while I had my tests to clear me as an agent and for field work, so more often than not I was alone. Then Maria stepped up to me, basically dragging me out of my room. We went to the gym and sparred a little, then went to grab some dinner. She introduced me to her friends and acted the whole time as if I were fresh from the academy instead of being brought in like a stray. Only then I felt like I found a new home. A fresh start."

"You didn't do what I did," Bucky's voice was low and his hands balled to fists. "There is no one on this team I didn't hurt one way or the other."

Natasha shrugged and started cutting. "Maybe. Keep your head straight... yeah, like that. But I did things just as bad. I just seldom faced the people I hurt. The people whose relatives I killed." She put the shears aside to lean over Bucky's shoulder and place her hand on his. "The dead are dead, James. They won't come back, no matter how much you punish yourself. But when you decide to move forward, you can at least try to make it up again. To wipe the red from your ledger."

"Sounds like one of the speeches the little punk would give," Bucky said, taking deep breaths.

"Well, he was my partner in the field for a long time. Guess I picked up one thing or the other." She placed a gentle kiss on his cheek and resumed cutting his hair.

Bucky stayed silent for a while. Then he said: "Barton and Stark asked me if I wanted to join. I declined. But I guess it would have been nice. I just… I know we broke the triggers but I'm afraid to hurt any of them because I can't keep my cool."

"Steve and I especially know the signs for the Winter Soldier by now, so we would interfere in time. And the other guys aren't part of the world's mightiest heroes for nothing. Don't want to belittle you, but I think they could take you on." She contemplated her work for a moment then laid the shears aside and took the hairdryer from the shelf. "I think you'll regret it someday if you refuse to bond with those guys. We're family, after all."

Bucky was spared the answer when Natasha started to dry his hair; any words would have been fruitless over the sound. He was half convinced Natasha was right. He couldn't just spend his time with her, Steve or alone; there would come a day when he would need the other guys. And maybe they would need him, too. Somehow that brought peace to his mind. He could be of use. And maybe he could make up what he did in his past, at least a tiny bit. He had to try.

He almost didn't notice when Natasha was done. Only when she tousled his hair again, he raised his gaze to meet hers. "Done already?"

"Yeah. You wanna take a look?"

Bucky nodded and stood up. While Natasha put the stool back on its place, he turned around and looked in the mirror. And startled. It was like looking through the mirror back in time. Back to when his biggest worry was to keep Steve save. Back to when he could have every woman he wanted. Back to before he had met the only woman he'd ever want.

"Do you like it?" Natasha voice was more timid than usual as she leaned against his back, her head placed on his shoulder and her arms wrapped around his torso. "It's not as even as a barber would have managed but-"

"It's great," Bucky interrupted her, their gazes meeting in the mirror. "Thank you."

"You really like it? Because if not, I won't kill you because of it."

Bucky rolled his eyes and turned around, taking her face gently into his hands. He felt her slightly shivering when the cold metal of his left hand met her skin. "I like it. Really. I feel like I'm about to be shipped off to Europe, but need to check on the punk just in case he got himself in trouble again."

"Steve will always find trouble, no matter what you do. That much I've learned already. And whoever wants to ship you off has to get past me. And they'll regret it. Big time."

Bucky grins and pulls her close to kiss her. "You're not better than the punk when it comes to trouble."

Now it is Natasha's time to roll her eyes. "It's been always Clint's or Steve's fault when I got into trouble."

"Neither of them were in Russia."

"No. Back then it was you who constantly got me into trouble."

"Oh, so now it's me?" Bucky shook his head and flung her over his shoulder.

Natasha didn't resist but leant on her forearm on his shoulders. An untypical giggle escaped her. "What are you doing?"

"Watching Steve get his ass kicked. I'm taking you with me, so you don't get into any kind of trouble. And maybe you can give me some hints on what to do with these controllers."

"Gamepads. Cooper once used a whole afternoon to explain me why they're called gamepads."

"Whatever." Bucky made his way out of Natasha's apartment and through the elevator into the common room. The boys were still at it, just as loud and enthusiastic as before. Bucky dumped Natasha on the sofa beside Clint, earning a playful glare from her.

The others acknowledged them with a nod and a few friendly words. Steve took a moment contemplating Bucky's new haircut, then smiled an open smile at him when he recongnized it. Bucky shuffled a bit around until Natasha nudged him with her foot and nodded towards the other guys. He sighed soundlessly, took a deep breath and walked over to Tony. "Hey, uhm… care to show me how this works?"

Tony paused the game and looked up at him in surprise. "Yeah, uh, sure. It's rather easy. Just as easy as picking up girls with your new haircut, I guess."

"Just show him how to play this game. James needs no help in picking up girls," Natasha called, her eyes a piercing emerald.

"Sure, sure," Tony surrendered instantly, holding up his hands. Then he looked at Bucky who had sat down beside Steve on one of the sofas. "You know, you should make sure she's tired more often. Super soldier stamina has to be useful for more things than just fighting." A pillow hit Tony square in the face, almost knocking his glasses off.

Bucky didn't had to fake the chuckle that made it past his lips.


	15. Emotionless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha has nightmares and doesn't know how to deal with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CN: anxiety, sleeploss
> 
> Characters: Natasha, Steve, Clint, Barton family

Natasha woke gasping, sweat beading on her forehead and matting her hair. She could feel her heart beating against her rips, an accelerated _thump-thump-thump_. The same dream as every night for the last week. Main protagonist: a little boy, mere four or five years old, clutching a teddy bear, panic on his tear-streaked face, crying for his mother. Every time Natasha tried to reach him, to protect him, to bring him to safety, but every time she failed. The grenade exploded and erased a young life. That was always the moment when she would wake up. Natasha suspected she should be glad she hadn't need to tell his mother in her dreams. Back then Steve had been the one to feel responsible enough to take over that duty but Natasha had declined. Firmly. She had failed in protecting the boy; his mother had deserved to by told by her, had deserved to _yell_ at her. And Natasha had let her.

Knowing full well that there wasn't any more sleep to get that night, Natasha slipped in one of the shirts she had stolen from Clint ages ago and left her apartment to spend the night with a book in the common area. She was afraid that she might fell asleep while reading despite her nightmares, so Natasha decided to make herself a mug of coffee. Thus prepared she settled into her favourite armchair – the one standing in the corner, offering perfect observation over the full room – and started reading on the collection of Norse mythology. Her plan was to ask Thor some day which of those legends and tales were true and if so, to what degree.

It was only when the first hesitant sunrays poked in through the windows that Natasha got pulled out of her book. "Up early, huh?" Steve asked.

Natasha's head snapped around to locate the super soldier standing at the kitchen's counter in his usual running gear, obviously ready for his morning exercise. Suddenly, he frowned and came around the various sofas and armchairs to get down on one knee before her. His stare was almost scrutinizing.

"What's that supposed to be once you're done?" Natasha asked with a familiar smirk. "Practicing for something in particular? Don't tell me you _actually_ like Sharon that much. Nothing wrong with that, though, but shouldn't you wait a bit longer before proposing to her?"

"Have you slept _at all_?" Steve asked quietly, completely ignoring her teasing. Gently he grabbed her chin and turned her head to get a better look at her face. "You look like shit, Nat."

"Wow, you really learned how to compliment a woman, didn't you?" Natasha retorted dryly and swatted his hand away. "I'm fine, no need to worry."

Steve looked at her with a sigh. "I know you long enough. I _see_ when something's wrong, despite your spy-face." He kept meeting her gaze and she could see the gears turning behind his forehead. "Is it because of the boy? You it wasn't your fault, right?"

Natasha shoved Steve aside and made to leave with her book. "You should go for your morning run before all those fangirls come out of school. You know what happened last time. She didn't want to talk about it with Steve; there was no need to. She would deal with it alone, the same way she always dealt with such emotions. She would be fine.

~#~#~#~#~#~

"Nat, you don't look fine," Clint said patiently later on the same day once he'd gotten a good look at her. "I'm worried. You're in no condition to do fieldwork and I know you were trained to go without sleep for some time. But sooner or later you'll break. Hell, you'd almost skinned Tony alive for a comment which normally would have sparked some easy banter between the two of you."

"He mixed vodka with some junk. The _good_ vodka," Natasha scoffed. "I think skinning him alive wouldn't have been enough of a punishment."

"You should take that vacation, Natasha," Steve said, making it sound like it wasn't a suggestion at all. "When was the last time you saw Clint's kids?"

Natasha rolled her eyes at him. "I have a job to do here. Train the recruits. They need my bad cop to your good cop."

"You just broke one's arm," Steve pointed out. "Uncalled for, by the way." Then he crossed his arms and when he looked at her he was no longer, cuddly Steve but stone-cold Captain America. "You're either taking the vacation or I will bench you and call Fury. This keeps you out of here and the field for as long as a psychiatrist would need to deem you fit again."

"You wouldn't dare," Natasha almost growled, fixing him with a stare. "Go crying to Fury just because I lost some sleep lately? We all have problems if you haven't realized before."

"I would and I will," Steve answered sternly. "It's up to you."

"I hate you. _Both_ of you."

Clint shrugged at Steve. "I've learned early on that's how she shows affection. It gets dangerous once she's indifferent."

Natasha boxed his shoulder before leaving in direction of her apartment. "I'm flying!" she yelled over her shoulder.

Steve sighed once she was out of sight. "Sometimes I forget how scary she can be. You'll look out for her and keep me updated, yeah?"

"Of course. Don't worry, being at the farm and with the kids will help her. It always does."

~#~#~#~#~#~

"Natasha! Long time, no see," Laura exclaimed and hugged the redhead. "Your room's already ready for you. Cooper and Lila are still in school, so you have some time to get settled first." She held Natasha at arm's length and looked at her more closely. Instead of asking what was wrong, though, she simply sighed with a half-smile. "Whatever it is that's wrong, I will listen when you're ready, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good. Then go bring your stuff upstairs and greet your godson. He's been looking forward to you since he knew you'd be coming."

"Yes, Ma'am." Natasha winked at her and shouldered her duffel to climb the stairs. An involuntary smile played her lips once she'd entered the room that had been hers since the very beginning. It was like coming home, even more so than her old SHIELD apartments or the Avengers compound. It surprised her time and time again how much a simple room could do in bringing peace. She placed the bag on top of the comforter and was just about to place her clothes in the little closet when unsure but stomping steps approached.

"Auntie Nat!" the toddler exclaimed happily and moved at a quick pace towards her.

Natasha dropped the clothes and bent down to pick Nathaniel up. "How's my favourite traitor, hm?"

Nathaniel giggled. "You silly."

"I'm silly? Well, you're the one having obviously drunk giggly water." She tickled him with one hand while holding him tight with the other arm.

The boy squeaked and laughed and squirmed and once the assassin finally quit on her assault, he laid his head on her shoulder. "Missed you. We play?"

"Sure thing little man. I'm here for a while the way it looks, so we have plenty of time."

The first days passed in a blur and Natasha grew considerably calmer. As Clint had prophesized, the children helped her with that, even if it was just by tiring her out by dragging her over the farm the whole day. Still, she tried to sleep as little as possible. Although her nightmares had lessened, they were still more forceful than usual. That way she was still up and reading by the soft glow of her bedside table when the thunder started. Her door was open just a crack, allowing the soft light to spill into the dark hallway. She'd made a habit of doing that whenever she stayed at the farm; that way she could be sure to hear when something was wrong with the kids.

By the time the second thunder shook the house, her door opened wider, allowing Nathaniel's face to appear. Immediately Natasha placed her book aside, smiled at the boy and moved her blanket a bit. "Need some company?"

Nathaniel nodded, held the ear of his favourite plush toy a little tighter and climbed with her help onto the bed only to snuggle close.

Natasha smiled softly, shut off the light and placed the blanket back over the both of them. "A thunderstorm is nothing to be afraid of," she explained softly, quietly. "It won't hurt you. Though I can understand if the sound scares you."

"You're not scared."

"Not of thunder, no. But of other things. Everyone's afraid of something, Nate." She held him a bit tighter, allowing him to seek the comfort he needed in her embrace and seeking it herself in the warmth of his living, breathing body.

The nightmares didn't stay away that night completely, but Natasha knew they were a part of her since childhood and would never really leave her. But she only woke when Nathaniel jumped on her bed, celebrating the soft rays of sunshine after the dark and terrorizing night.

* * *


	16. Caged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha has just joined SHIELD and she's not doing well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Characters: Natasha, Clint

Natasha was anxious though neither her face nor her eyes gave anything away. For the first time since entering SHIELD's headquarters almost two months ago she was wearing training clothes and waited in front of one of the gyms together with other recruits. Though none of them were like her. The stood together in little groups like the brainless sheep they were, whispering and throwing her the occasional glances. Unobtrusive, really. One would never think they were here to be trained as agents. Natasha leant all by herself at the wall, her arms crossed in front of her chest. For a few minutes already she was willing her heartbeat to slow down. It was the first time since two months that she interacted with other people than the shrinks that were supposed to evaluate her. Though _interacting_ might be stretching the fact a little since she'd made no effort in talking with anyone. She was supposed to train with these morons, all of them older than her but not better trained than the six-year-olds in the Red Room had been.

The chatter died when a senior agent appeared, opening the doors of the gym. "Alright, recruits, get in here." He waited until they all stood in a single line on the mats, a noticeable gap between Natasha and the rest of the recruits. "My name's Lockwood and if I catch anyone of you guys calling me Locky, this recruit will be running more laps than he has accumulated during his High School time. Understood? Good. You passed the academies and now you aspire to become agents of SHIELD. While that is a noble course, I warn you: we only take the best. So those of you who think that being here is already a safe card, well, that's your wake-up call. I will not tolerate anyone who is trying to manipulate a colleague. Remember, you could end up as partners. Okay, now that that's out of the way, warm up."

Natasha chose a quiet corner to warm up her muscles. Neither did she hope nor expect to make any friends here anytime soon and that was just the way she liked it. She didn't do friends. Bad enough Barton tried to be one to her every time he was back at HQ from another mission. No matter how beaten up he was, he always insisted on visiting her in her small cell the day he returned. Although it wasn't exactly called a cell, it was far from the living quarters the recruits normally had and she wasn't allowed to come or go as she pleased. To her, it was a cell.

"Romanoff."

Natasha stopped warming up and turned to look at the instructor. Lockwood stood in front of her, his body language to careful tuned to being non-threatening to be really convincing. So he knew her reputation. And he was scared. "Yes, sir?"

"I know you are already trained and Hill let me know that concerning you this class is to assess your abilities. So I want you to assist me when I show the moves to the rookies."

Natasha simply nodded and followed Lockwood to the middle of the mats.

Lockwood raised his voice. "Alright guys, let's start with something simple. Romanoff here will attack me and I will break her grip. First in real speed, then slower so you can see what we're doing." He turned towards Natasha and assumed a fighting stance. "Come at me."

Natasha returned his gaze unfazed and moved almost too quickly for the eye to see. One moment she was standing seemingly relaxed on the mats, three steps away from Lockwood, the next moment she had turned his arm painfully on his back and Lockwood was struggling against her grip. Then a sharp _crack_ sounded through the gym.

~#~#~#~#~#~

Since Natasha had been brought back to her room, she has been pacing without pause. She was _sure_ they were going to decapitate her. Inuring her instructor on the first day? Great move. Natasha had no idea how much time had passed since the incident but she was sure it was already night outside. Or was it morning again?

The opening of her door had her jumping and instinctively she assumed a fighting stance, one wall in her back so she was still able to move enough without being able to be surprised. It was Barton who entered her cell and Natasha only relaxed for a second before remembering that they could use _him_ to kill her, both as a punishment for him _and_ her.

"Hey," he greeted her with a soft smile. "I heard what happened."

"Then you're here for letting me pay?" The bitterness crept into her voice without Natasha really being able to prevent it.

Barton frowned. "No I… I wanted to see how you were doing. Collins told me you were even calmer than usual which, frankly, freaked him out a little." He held a brown bag up. "Brought you some doughnuts. A situation like that asks for doughnuts."

"But, I… I _hurt_ an instructor. I _broke his arm_. And you're bringing me doughnuts? Are those poisoned? Because if so then I'm rather going in a fight."

"Hey, whoa. Calm down." Barton put the bag on the ground and held up his hands in a calming gesture. "Breaking Lockwood's arm was an accident. You know that. I know that. And Fury, too. Things like that happen and no one will blame you for it."

"He said he'd break my grip. That he wanted real speed. I didn't even _think_ about loosening my grip, because-" Natasha gulped and averted her eyes for the shortest moment.

Barton's look grew even softer. "Because you're not used to it, right?"

Natasha nodded. Quietly, she told him: "In the… in Russia, there was no letting someone win. If you didn't win, you died. Simple as that. I didn't even _know_ there is another way to train."

"Well, good we're not in Russia. Lockwood's a good guy." When Natasha didn't react to his comment, Barton picked up the bag again and moved slowly towards her. He felt her tensing at his approach but continued nevertheless. "How about this: we're enjoying these fabulous doughnuts and I'll talk about this training thing with Coulson first thing afterwards. I mean, you need someone to train with while you're here."

~#~#~#~#~#~

"Thank you." It was sheer honesty in her voice.

Barton shrugged with one of his big grins. "You're welcome. Besides, someone has to take care of you."

"That one's you?" Natasha raised one of her perfectly plucked eyebrows.

"Who else? I brought you in, I take care of you. You're my responsibility, not only because I'd really suck if you'd decide to fuck it all up."

"Wow. That's encouraging, Barton," she answered dryly. "I'm not your stray who walks around biting and scratching everyone."

"No. But you know they call you _my Russian stray_ , don't you?"

Natasha shrugged elegantly. "I have nothing else to do than listen in on conversations all day long. Of course I know. And I'll let them pay in my own time. _Without_ killing them," she added with a roll of her eyes when she noticed Barton's look. "What now, you wanna spar or not?"

"And get me some nasty bruises? Anytime." Barton smirked and darted forward, but Natasha was already expecting him with a smile.


	17. Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha learns how the Red Room deals with mistakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CN: child abuse
> 
> Characters: Natasha, Madame B.

The redheaded girl at the end of the line was cold but she tried hard to not let it show. She still remembered the last time she had let on about it and her succeeding stay outside in the snow, clad in nothing but her underwear. No, she wasn't supposed to be weak and Natalia didn't want to be. Not after she had seen what happened to those who were weak.

The day had started early for her. Even before the sunrise she had been woken to spar in the gym. Although Natalia had been tired, she had won every fight, using moves they had been taught in the ballet classes. What she lacked in size she compensated with speed and agility, defeating the older and bigger girls before they could see any pattern in her movements. The trainer had been pleased with her, allowing her to go showering first so that she could use the warm water. If she danced best now, she might got dinner first, eating the best pieces while they were still warm. Her stomach growled quietly when she only thought about it.

The end of a slim whip collided with her ankles and Natalia winced, looking up to Madame B. and straightened. "You know dreaming is not tolerated, Natalia. En pointe." Natalia came forward three steps and lifted herself onto the tip of her toes without showing the dread she was feeling. "You will stay like that until I tell you to stop. The others, repeat yesterday's exercise. Start."

Natalia stood tall and straight, arms slightly bent as to keep her balance. She knew there would come a point when her knees would start to feel weak and her legs would start to tremble until she couldn't control the exhaustion anymore. With every fibre of her being she hoped Madame B. would end her torture sooner.

As if summoned by her thoughts, Madame B. stepped nearer while rolling up her whip. "Curiously, it's always you who's insubordinate, Natalia Romanova," she mused, walking around the eight-year-old. "We'll have to get that out of your system, don't we?"

"Yes, Madame," Natalia answered, her gaze stoically directed at the wall opposite of her.

"A Black Widow has to follow orders and she has to be always vigilant. Russia has no need for girls who cannot concentrate on the simplest tasks."

"No, Madame."

"But you do want to become a Black Widow, don't you? You want to serve the Motherland."

"Yes, Madame."

"Why is that so?"

Natalia gritted her teeth together and concentrated on her balance. When she took too long with her answer, the whip bit her calf. Her balance only wavered for the fraction of a second. "Because love is a weakness and I have no other place in the world. It is my purpose to serve Russia with my life. If this purpose demands my life as a final token of loyalty, I will give it gladly," she recited the words she couldn't even remember learning.

Madame B. contemplated her for a long moment. "This training will either break and kill you or produce the most successful Black Widow since the woman that would be known as Dorothy Underwood. Marble is a hard material, Natalia. Difficult to form and if you're careless, you're chipping away pieces that could be useful later. But it's a beautiful substance and no one suspects anything harmful beneath a pretty surface. Be sure not to break, Natalia."

"Yes, Madame." Her whole focus was on controlling her breathing, trying to breath the pain away that threatened to force her tumbling over.

Her instructor observed her for another minute before making a flinging gesture. "You can stop now, Natalia. Stretch your muscles and then I want to see you dancing your part. The others, repeat another three times, then you can go."

Although Natalia was hungry, too, she knew better than to protest. Instead, she made a point of holding the pose five seconds longer before lowering down slowly. Without showing a limp she went to the side where she started stretching. Natalia was careful to not look at the other girls; she knew there was no sympathy to win and when she was being honest, she didn't even want it. Sympathy was for the weak, for those who'd be dying because of feeling sympathy for their enemies. There was no friendship lost between the girls inhabiting the Red Room. Yes, Arina she hated the least but Arina was none of those who were constantly making fun of her because she was smaller than the rest of them. And just because they sometimes shared their meals did not mean that they were friends or something similar stupid.

And then Natalia started to dance. She was confident she already knew the routine but during the first half minute Madame B. detected more than twenty mistakes, each of which she pointed out with a painful hiss of her whip. Every time Natalia was found guilty of such a mistake, she had to start anew, resulting in hours and hours of dancing until she managed one faultless run.

"You can go for now, Natalia. I expect you to be alert next time or else we will repeat what you did today. Besides, you should train your ballet routine. I will let it slide this time but should you make as many mistakes the next time, there will be punishment. Understood?"

"Yes, Madame," Natalia answered without missing a beat and kept her face blank. She was afraid of looking at her feet when she was being honest. When taking into account how much they hurt, how much it hurt just _standing_ upright, she was betting they bled like hell. Natalia left the dancing room, forcing her body to set step after step unwavering. Only in her little room – rather a cell, really – she fell onto her cot and started with trembling fingers to loosen the silken bands that held the shoes in place. The former white of her ballet shoes was coloured red from the blood that was dripping from her feet and Natalia bit her teeth together as she as carefully as possible removed them from her feet. Instead of taking care of her feet immediately, she went to the little sink to wash out the blood of the shoes. If they weren't immaculate again by her next training tomorrow, Madame B. would have her back for it.

By the time she had managed to clean the shoes and put them to dry beside the tiny oven that barely heated her little cell, the blood on her feet had already dried. With a sigh n her lips and dread in her stomach, she cleaned the wounds and afterwards wrapped her feet in bandages. Natalia hoped it wouldn't hurt as much the next day.

With a sigh she plopped back on her cot, eyes closed. She wasn't as hungry anymore. A part of her asked it this really was the life for her. If there weren't any parents looking for her. She just couldn't believe that they really should be dead as Ivan had told her so long ago. Then again, Natalia wouldn't even find her home anymore, not knowing where it had been and where she was now. Even more, she didn't know whether Natalia Romanova was her real name. But that wouldn't be important anymore once she was the Black Widow and served Russia. That was the only thing she was sure of. That when she graduated, she would find her place in the world.


	18. Candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha and Bucky start bonding over sweets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CN: mentiones of killed parents
> 
> Characters: Natasha, Bucky

It was a lazy Saturday afternoon at the Avengers headquarter. Tony had been invited to some sort of fund-raiser and had taken Steve with him, because quote: "If he can sell war bonds, he sure as hell can help raising money where it is really needed." Before Tony could enlist any other team members, they quickly looked for excuses. Clint decided to spend some quality time with his family and Bruce had this really important project he was working on in the lab. Wanda and Vision decided they'd better not be seen in public and Sam wanted to train more to finally be "not that much slower than Cap." Rhodey had taken an extra shift at his post. When Tony had asked Natasha, she had simply looked at him with her cold Black Widow gaze until Tony decided he'd rather not wait for an answer.

So instead of being dragged to some event she didn't care about, Natasha got a movie and a bag of her favourite toffee she found by chance in a little shop and already got herself comfortable on the sofa in front of the TV. Right now she had a break from being an Avenger or an agent or whatsoever.

The soft steps approaching her didn't even get her to look up; over time she had managed to memorize the steps of every resident in the tower. Relaxed she popped another toffee into her mouth and acknowledged Bucky with a nod when he plopped on the cushions beside her.

"Why you're not with Steve and Stark?" he asked after placing his feet on the coffee table.

Natasha shrugged. "I worked for Stark undercover a few years ago. I had my share of him at events and I would rather kiss a shark than go on another one with him. What about you?"

"Didn't ask me to come," Bucky answered with a tone as if he didn't care but Natasha could see right through it. Being trained as a spy would do that to you.

"If he wouldn't trust you, he wouldn't have offered you a room in the tower. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about." After she had abandoned his side during the fight at the airport it had been hard work convincing him she could be trusted when the team finally got back together again. Natasha didn't believe he would let her go so easily again if she crossed him.

Bucky huffed. "Did you kill his parents?"

"No, and we had that topic often enough. You weren't yourself when you did it. It's in the past. Mopping won't change it." She sighed and to lighten the mood, she told him about her time with Tony. "I was the one to file him as unfitting for the Avengers Initiative when it first came up, so he ended up as a counsellor rather than a fully-fledged member. His pride didn't take it well."

Buck grinned. "I can imagine." Then from one second to another he grew serious again. "But yet he considers you his friend. At least so it seems. I on the other hand… I'm tolerated because Steve fought for it. I know he had a hard time adjusting but I wonder whether I'll ever be someone else than the Winter Soldier."

"It takes some time to adjust, I won't lie to you. But if you have the right guys around you, the ones who believe in you, it's possible."

"How can you know? No offense, but you're a member of the Avengers and of S.H.I.E.L.D. Doesn't seem to me as if you ever needed to adjust to anything." Bucky challengingly raised an eyebrow.

Natasha pulled her legs closer and hugged her knees. "I started as an assassin of the KGB, trained in the Red Room."

"You survived the Red Room? You're kidding me, right? You have to be kidding me."

"No, sadly not. My parents were killed and the KGB took me in, training me for its benefits. I graduated at the age of fifteen. I made a name for myself, so after a few years, Clint was sent by S.H.I.E.L.D. to kill me, but instead of doing so, he brought me to D.C., convincing Coulson and Fury to make me an agent. They went with it. Since then I spend my time wiping the blood off of my hands. Sometimes with more success, sometimes with less. Few people trust me the moment they meet me, but that's fine. They would be stupid to trust someone like me instantly." Natasha shrugged nonchalantly.

Bucky cocked his head. "Steve seems to trust you."

"Yeah, Steve is a puppy who trusts everyone patting his head," Natasha objected with a smile. "But there was a time he distrusted me. Changed only after we were hiding from Hydra. He saved my life."

"Glad I could help with that one, though I'm sorry for hunting you. And killing your boss." Bucky offered an apologetic smile. "Although your little shock-thingy really messed with my arm. And your hit on my glasses was just awesome."

Natasha only shrugged again. "They can be pretty nasty but that's the point of the Widow's Bite. And it's alright, you know. You didn't kill Fury and it wasn't the first time you shot me."

"Oh, come on! Are you serious?"

As an answer, Natasha lifted her top a few inches. "Remember the Iranian nuclear scientist? Somehow you pulled us off a cliff near Odessa but I managed to get us out. I was shielding him with my body and you shot him right through me. Bye-bye bikinis."

"Yeah, I'm sure no one wants to look at you when you're wearing them now," Bucky scoffed. "But I'm sorry nevertheless. I almost killed you twice and you're still not telling me to go and find another place to hang out?"

Natasha smiled and let the fabric fall back down before reaching again for her toffees. "Steve said something similar when I told him the story. And you've already tried to kill me thrice, so… I guess I just love the risk."

"Vienna?" Bucky simply asked and tilted his head back, closing his eyes. His metal hand clenched into a fist.

Natasha gently touched his shoulder. "I'm not blaming you for a single encounter," she said with honesty. "I rather look at it the other way around. I managed to survive the Winter Soldier three times, that should be worth some kind of achievement. And to be honest, I would have deserved to die every time. Like I said, there is a lot of blood on my hands. All we both can do is to try and make it up to those who trust in us. Heck, Clint even brought me to his family when he didn't know whether I could be trusted or not. You should have seen Laura's face when I stood in the door." Her smile was full of the warmth only seldom displayed by the Black Widow. "You living at the tower is the first step in the right direction. I got a second chance, even a third while we're at it. Why shouldn't you, too?"

"You really mean this, don't you?"

"Sure. I may be not Captain America, but I only lie when it's necessary." Natasha winked at him and hesitated for a moment before offering him her bag of toffees. "Want some? Just don't tell Tony or else he bothers me he wants some, too."

Bucky grinned his boy-like grin. "Won't say a word. Thanks." It was quiet for some while. Then Bucky asked: "Care to spar later? Need a partner who poses a challenge without using magic tricks."

"What about electric powered tricks?" Her look was too innocent to be real.

"You're talking about your Bites?" Bucky sighed as Natasha nodded. "Fine. But only limited. Otherwise I could be lying on the floor, drooling onto the mat."

"Could be," Natasha agreed with a grin. "You're up for a movie before we take it to the gym?"

Bucky shrugged, leaning back more relaxed. "Sure. Pick something."


End file.
